Thrive (Guardian Protection)
Page 27
I still gave it another try. “I used to be a little girl, Jeremy. And all girls like dresses and tiaras. It was just a guess, but not exactly a longshot.”
He continued with his disbelieving, slitted stare. “And the smile?”
Now, this wasn’t a lie, so I grinned. “Have you looked in the mirror?”
“Right,” he clipped, but thankfully, his body slacked.
Relief blasted through me.
That is until he stated, “You always wanted babies.”
It was my turn to go stiff.
He continued talking. “You used to ramble for fucking ever about how you’d be a better mom than the one you had. You wanted three by the time you were thirty so you could be a young mom who would still be young when they had kids of their own. Nineteen years old and you were already planning for grandkids.”
My stomach twisted, and my chest ached. Why did he have to remember everything I’d ever said? Normally, this would have been a great trait when trying to rekindle a relationship from seventeen years ago, but this… This I could have really benefited from him forgetting.
Because I wanted to forget too.
His hand once again landed on my face, but this time, it was gentle and consoling. “You wanted a big family, Mira. Everything we never had growing up. What happened to that?”
Emotion thickened my voice as I replied, “I changed my mind.”
“Why?” he asked, but it was more like a prompt than a question.
“Because.”
“Because why?” He dipped low and kissed me, and he did it softly and slowly. It was a kiss filled with an apology as if he’d already worked out the answer.
And it was Jeremy—so he probably had.
Therefore, there was no use lying anymore, and the truth tumbled out along with a few tears. “Because, on the back of the truck when we talked about all of those things, I was imagining that I’d be making and raising those babies with you.”
“Jesus, I wanted that too.” He inhaled, long and deep, but his dark gaze never left mine. “So seeing my girls, it’s hard for you. A reminder of something you never got.”
I shook my head adamantly. “No. I mean…yes, I’m jealous sometimes. But I swear I don’t have a problem with your kids. I would have loved to get to know them and spent time with you, watching you be a dad. You were so happy today when you saw them. It was like you were pissed off but, the minute you heard them say, ‘Daddy,’ this monstrous smile covered your face. I don’t think you even realized it. It was beautiful, and seeing you so happy made me happy. And it’s killing me, knowing that I can’t be a part of that.”
His chin jerked to the side. “And why can’t you be a part of that? Just because we didn’t officially introduce you to them today—”
“Because it’s not safe,” I blurted. “Jeremy, there are people trying to kill me. No way am I bringing that to those sweet little girls’ doorstep. What if something happened to them? For fuck’s sake, Jonah kidnapped my best friend. She is twenty-three. Imagine what he would do to your girls?”
His face was hard as he suddenly sat up, taking me with him, but he allowed me no space. Holding me securely on his lap, he grumbled, “First of all, no one is going to touch my girls.”
“No. Because I’m going to a hotel,” I stated.
And just like those were the magical words to summon him, Mr. Hyde appeared. “Stop fucking saying you’re going to a hotel! You’re not going to a goddamn hotel. Ever. Never.” He leaned in closer to my face with every word, where he finished with, “Fucking ever.”
Finally able to free myself from his lap, I stood, crossed my arms over my chest, and started to pace the floor, all the while mumbling under my breath, “Well, then, that is going to make vacationing difficult in the future.”
His chest heaved as he rose to his feet. “Jesus Christ, woman. Stop trying to get away from me.”
I stopped and looked to him. “I’m not trying to get away! Don’t you see? I’m trying to keep you. Your kids are important to you, Jeremy.”
“Yes. More than anything in the world. But you are important to me too. Have a little faith that I know what I’m doing here. You don’t think I’ve considered that Kurt’s bullshit—”
I opened my mouth to interject, but he stabbed a finger in my direction and snarled, “And don’t fucking try to tell me this is your bullshit. This is all on Kurt. Every fucking bit of it. And I’m taking care of it.”
“How? As of this morning, I’m not even allowed to go to the grocery store by myself. And yet you’re going to let me play Suzie stepmother to your girls?”
He planted his hands on his hips. “No, Mir. That was not part of the plan. I don’t want you playing shit. I want you to be their stepmother. I want to marry you and make those babies with you that we never got to have. But, most of all, I want you to stop keeping this shit to yourself, open your goddamn mouth, and talk to me before you build it up in your head to something it is not.”
Spoiler alert part two: This is the scene where the heroine dies.
Dead.
Croaked.
Kicked the bucket.
Flatlined.
The whole shebang.
“W-what?” my corpse, who could surprisingly still talk even though I was D-E-A-D dead, stammered.
“For fuck’s sake. That whole goddamn not-talking-to-each-other thing is how I lost you the first time. I’m done with it.” He took a scary step toward me, but I was still dead, so I couldn’t back away. “You got something to say? Fucking say it.” Another step. “Something is bothering you? Fucking tell me.” Another step. “You’re worried about something. Fucking say it!” He stopped directly in front of me. Snaking his arm around my back, he tugged me against his chest and lowered his voice to say, “But you get those crazy-ass ideas about going to a hotel again? You keep that shit to yourself.”
I just stood there, staring up at him, wondering how I was still on my feet at all.
And he just stood there, staring down at me, his twinkling hazel eyes searching my face.
“Say it, baby,” he prompted. “Whatever you are thinking right now. Give it to me.”
I swallowed hard and blinked back tears. And then I told him exactly what was on my mind. “I think I’m dead.”
His brows pinched, but his lips twitched. Slipping two fingers beneath my scarf, he pressed them to my neck. “Nope. Still got a pulse.”
Well, that was good news.
“You want to marry me?” I whispered, not trusting my voice.
He shrugged. “I’m not saying today. But that’s kinda the goal when you’re in love with someone.”
My vision started to swim as I croaked out, “And have babies?”
“If you still want ’em. I love being a dad, and I love my girls. I’ll love our kids too.”
God, the pain in my chest was agonizing. But it was the most beautiful pain of my entire life. “I’m creeping up on thirty-seven, Jeremy.”
“Okay, so this time, we won’t wait seventeen years to have them. We can wait a few months, make sure we still like each other.” He winked. “In that time, we can take care of making you a Lark and then get down to the baby-making, hopefully getting number one out before you turn thirty-eight.”
I choked, coughing right in his face. “Number one?”
He arched an incredulous eyebrow at me. “Kids is still plural, right? I don’t know about three, but we should have time for two before you turn forty. We’ll see how it goes. Play it by ear.”
I blinked.
Then blinked again.
And then I died all over again.
Slapping a hand over my mouth, I said, “You’ve thought this out.”
He grinned, sliding a hand between my shoulder blades, up my neck, and into my hair. “Yeah, Mir. When you were tossing and turning last night, worrying that I was gonna disappear…I was busy planning a life where you didn’t.”
I felt it long before I could identify it.
It was somewh
ere deep inside me.
And it hurt. So fucking badly. Like I was being stabbed with a million fiery knives while simultaneously being run over by a stampede of horses.
I’d never felt it before. I’d never even known that place inside me existed.
Once, when I was a kid, I’d gotten tonsillitis. I remembered asking the doctor how that was possible because I didn’t have tonsils. He’d assured me I did and that they’d always been a part of me. It just wasn’t until they’d started hurting that I’d become aware of them.
I’d always known I had bruises inside me.
They, too, were a part of me. Every day. For my entire life.
But, if you’ve never felt relief, you can’t recognize pain.
In that moment, with Jeremy staring down at me, offering me everything I’d ever wanted—including a life with him—I realized just how dark and diseased those bruises truly were.
Because I finally felt them disappear.
Circling my arms around his waist, I hugged him tighter than ever before. “I love you,” I whispered. It wasn’t enough, but I’d pay him back for what he had just given me over time—a lifetime. I decided to start with, “I’ll stop talking about going to a hotel.”
“Love you too, baby,” he rasped before kissing the top of my head. “And I’d appreciate that.”
I sucked in a deep breath, keeping my arms locked around him, and swayed my upper body away. “But what are we going to do about the girls? I’d never be able to live with myself if something happened to them.”
“Trust me. That’s not going to happen. Leo, Mateo, and I are working on some things. Caleb is trying to get me a sit down with Kurt. He might be a cop, but he’s a good guy who has no problems turning a blind eye in order to do what’s right.”
I frowned. “I don’t know that you meeting with Kurt is a good idea, Jeremy. If you’re expecting him to turn over the whereabouts of this money, you should probably not mention that we’re together.”
He squeezed me. “I know that, baby. I don’t want you stressing about this. We’re going into this smart. And I don’t want you worrying about the girls, either. The minute Mateo dropped that shit on us last night, they were at the forefront of my mind. They’re covered. Johnson cut the central power to Melissa’s house last night. It’s going to take the repair man—a.k.a. our camera guy, Zach—a few days to get it fixed, so she and the girls are currently staying at Brent’s.”
My mouth fell open in a mixture of shock and amusement. “He cut the power?”
“Yep.”
“And Zach is going to repair it?”
“No. Zach just answered the call Apollo rerouted from her phone. We’ll wait a few days until all of this dies down and then send the power company to fix it. I’ll foot the bill and no one is the wiser.”
My already gaping mouth stretched wider. “Apollo rerouted her call?”
He shook his head. “Apollo can do a lot of things that I promise you do not want to know about. Now…are we done? Any chance I can take my girls back to Melissa now?”
“Depends. Am I going to learn at year six of our marriage that Guardian Protection Agency is a super-secret division of the CIA?”
I was only half kidding.
He smiled. “First thing tomorrow, me, my former-DEA-agent boss, a cop with a keen sense for justice, and a drug lord who is quite possibly in love with you are going to figure out how to end Kurt’s bullshit for you once and for all. Trust me: The CIA doesn’t want any part of this.”
A laugh sprang from my throat. “That sounds like quite the team.”
He bent low, brushed his lips with mine, and then whispered, “Let’s hope.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?” I asked from the same spot on the Guardian couch I’d been sitting in the majority of the day. I was pretty sure it would have a permanent imprint of my ass on it by the time I left.
Jeremy had gone to drop his girls off. After that, he was coming back for me and then we were going to walk across the street to the bar Apollo owned (seriously, that man was intriguing) called Murphy’s with Jude, Rhion, Johnson, and Braydon. I’d convinced myself that we were all just hanging out and I didn’t need a team of bodyguards in order to have a beer with my boyfriend. But whatever. I was happy.
Braydon arched his sculpted, brown eyebrow. But not sculpted in the feminine way. Sculpted like he took pride in his appearance and had probably learned his way around a set of tweezers over the years. And, given that his nails were all filed to a short, even length, his cuticles were spotless, his white button-down shirt was pressed, and his jeans were tastefully tattered, I figured he’d learned his way around a nail salon, a dry cleaner, and the mall too.
“Not at the moment. You offering?” He smiled, popping those delicious dimples.
“Nah…I kind of got pre-engaged and pre-pregnant today. It’s best if I stick with the man I got.”
His brows shot up. “Pre-engaged and pre-pregnant?”
I smiled huge and nodded. “Two kids before I turn forty. But only after I become a Lark.”
His dimples danced as his lips twitched. “Well…congratulations?”
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to let you know when I’m post-engaged and post-pregnant.”
He chuckled and went back to watching TV, which was no longer on The Food Channel, but ESPN.
I’d also convinced myself that he was just chilling, waiting to walk over to the bar with us, rather than babysitting. But, again, whatever. I was happy.
The highlight reel was looping around for the third time when my phone started ringing. I didn’t recognize the number, but I lifted it to my ear anyway.
“Hello?”
“When I first saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.”
His accent was unmistakable. “Mateo?”
Braydon’s gaze flew to mine, his eyes wide with alert. He rose from the couch and prowled toward me, snapping his fingers before holding his hand palm up, asking for the phone.
I waved him off as Mateo kept talking in my ear.
“Your Spanish was terrible, but your laugh could breathe life into dying men. And for a while there that was exactly what I was.”
Okay, so Jeremy had been right. Mateo was definitely in love with me. Seeing as he was a powerful drug lord from Miami with a good heart who had decided to plod into the mess that was my life, the least I could do was let him down easy.
“Um…thanks.” I dodged Braydon’s attempt to take my phone. “You’re really sweet—”
“But you didn’t belong in my world. Living with Kurt, you were already a caged bird who had forgotten how to sing. I couldn’t bear to watch you suffer trying to fit into my lifestyle. But, Mira, please know, that should you ever be lost, I will always be the one to find you.”
My body jolted. What the hell did that even mean?
It sounded like a compliment, so I went with that.
“Mateo, I—”
“Never forget that,” he carried on. “But that is not the reason for my call, Preciosa. I believe I have something of yours.” His voice became muffled as he moved his mouth away from the phone to ask someone else, “Her name is Bitsy, right?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
I loved my dog. She’d held me together when I’d thought all had been lost in life. She’d warmed me when everything outside had seemed too cold. And she’d made me smile when I’d thought it was impossible. Bitsy meant the world to me.
But that wasn’t why tears exploded from my eyes or adrenaline surged like a tidal wave through my veins.
With a huge smile on my face, I listened to Whitney reply, “Yeah. Bitsy’s her name.”
“Love you too, sweetie.” I smiled, backing out of Brent’s door.
Sophie ran toward me with one of the new Barbies she’d just unboxed. “Daddy, look what Brent got us!”
“Wow, sweetie.” I feigned excitement. “That is so cool.”
“Look at mine!
” Amelia squealed, bouncing into the foyer.
“Wow, sweetie,” I repeated. “That is so cool.”
Christ, he was going to spoil the hell out of my kids.
“Girls!” Melissa called. “Come eat your dinner and let Daddy go.”
Mel had been icy with me since I’d arrived to drop the girls off. She’d offered the mandatory courtesy greeting and forced a smile, but after that, she’d retreated to the kitchen, leaving me to say goodbye to the girls while Brent stood at the door. She’d get over that shit eventually, but I hadn’t spent three years married to the woman without learning she was going to put me through the wringer first.
I watched with a warm chest as my girls scurried away.
I looked to Brent. “Thanks for letting them stay here.”
He smiled like a fucking goof. “Happy to have them.” He paused. “Listen, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a few weeks now, but I haven’t found the right moment.” He shoved a hand into his pocket and then rocked from his heels to his toes. “Melissa told me you moved a woman into your house today…and, um, I was thinking maybe you’d be okay with me asking her and the girls to move in here—permanently.”
Jesus. This guy, with all his ums and Barbie dolls, was not who I’d thought would be helping to raise my daughters. But, then again, I’d never thought Mira would be helping, either. A smile grew on my face.
“I’m good with that,” I replied. “I’m sure Apollo and Johnson would be happy to check out your security system.”
I’d be damned if the motherfucker’s cheeks didn’t pink like I’d just awarded him the highest acclaim. “Yeah. Send them over. Whatever the price. I’ll make it happen.”
Yeah. There were definitely worse stepdads out there than good old Brent, who just wanted to spoil my kids and live with their mother under his roof.
I extended a hand his way. “You convince Melissa to talk to me again without the guilt trip over not telling her in advance about Mira, I’ll have them hook you up free of charge.”
He grinned, clasping my hand in a surprisingly firm shake. “Yeah. I don’t know that I can work that kind of magic. Just have them send the bill to my office.”