Uncut (Unexpected Book 4)

by Burgoa, Claudia

  Scrunching my nose, I cross my arms. Tristan flinches. “Sorry, it’s just that it really matters to him. Before, when I was an asshole, we fought a lot about it.” Instead of giving him a hard time, I kiss him.

  “This,” I say, pointing at the three of us, “we have yet to discuss. Between moving my belongings from my old apartment to what’ll be my new place in a couple of days, we haven’t said anything about it. Make sense of what’s next.”

  They both look at each other and then back at me. Matt cocks an inquisitive eyebrow at Tristan who nods.

  Matt takes a step forward, then lifts my chin connecting our gazes. “Next . . . we continue our relationship. We’ve been together without a title for quite some time. It’s been an unconventional relationship where the three of us have come together and molded into each other’s lives.”

  Tristan takes my hand. “There’s a big love between the three of us that we’ll nourish while we grow this relationship and are able to take further steps. Like being intimate, living together . . . one day at a time, Butterfly.” He trails kisses along my palm and arm. “You belong to us, we belong to you.”

  The words squeeze my heart, filling my heart with happiness.

  We belong.

  “So, we work at this and love as we go?” I ask, snaking one arm around Tristan’s waist and another around Matt’s. Nestled between them, my heart settles inside the cocoon we’re creating, believing this is right. “My head has doubts, but my heart knows this is where I belong. Let’s go to dinner, Mattie, as a family. Your family.”

  That’s why I find myself at the Decker’s home, a mansion on one of the islands surrounding Seattle, touring the grounds including the studio. I’ve never been into one, and I’m amazed by the amount of instruments and speakers they have. Chris Decker’s office is decorated with most of his awards, and a few pictures of Dreadful Souls. The guys back in their glory days. My father with long, curly blond hair, shirtless, and sticking his tongue out.

  “That’s my old band,” Chris says, then points at himself with much longer hair than mine. “The thrill of being with ‘the band’ was the ultimate drug at the beginning. Then we discovered the real shit. Partied too much, fucked too many women, and at the end, we couldn’t stand each other. Have you heard the music?”

  I scrunch my nose and work extra time to hold my tongue.

  “Nose scrunch,” Matt points out. “That means no, or that she hates it.” Tristan squeezes my hand, and comes closer to me. While Matt tosses his hands up in the air. “You’re too picky, woman.”

  I roll my eyes and try to ignore him, while Chris gives me that lazy grin and says, “I take it you’re not a fan.”

  “Afraid not. I only listen to new age or classical. Bach, Mozart, Verdi, Strauss, Tchaikovsky, among others.” Then I turn to Tristan. “Are you a fan?”

  He shrugs, smiling at Chris. “You weren’t as bad.”

  “Jesus, I need to teach them about good music. Thea, really? Classical . . . and you’re dating a drummer?” Chris gives me that devilish smirk that looks so much like the one Matt has, and I can’t help but smile with him while bobbing my head. “That’s true love. My husband hates heavy metal and still fell in love with me, didn’t you, babe?”

  “I still ask myself what possessed me, then I remember how amazing he is and forget his old hideous music.” Gabe winks at his husband and then kisses him. “He gave me three amazing children too. You can’t beat that, and whatever else he does disappears when I remember what we built.”

  Watching them, the vibe of unconditional love—and the true love between them—fills my heart with joy. It’s beautiful. They have their own unicorn. This is what I want. Compassion, friendship, harmony, fidelity, strength, and of course, love. Matt kisses the nape of my neck the moment I take his and Tristan’s hand in mine. Uniting us. One day I want this. Being old, sharing dinner with my men and our children. Their significant others.

  “No worries, Butterfly,” Matt murmurs. I tilt my head, and find his contagious lips, which draw a smile on mine too. “I’ll teach you to love a drummer. We musicians are fucking awesome.” Then he kisses Tristan on the cheek.

  “I love you, babe,” Tristan says, kissing Matt back, “but keep the drums in the soundproof room. I like it better when you play the piano. That I can listen to for eternity.”

  I sigh. These two are adorable, and I agree, Matt plays the piano with his soul. Each note caresses my heart—his melodies wash away heartaches—and it’s like medicine that heals from within.

  From there, the tour continues to the grand kitchen that has multiple ovens and a huge stove with eight burners. The industrial refrigerator makes me wonder what they possibly cook for only the two of them?

  “It all came with the house.” Christian opens the fridge. “We planned to remodel, but it comes in handy. With all our extended family, it’ll be perfect for Christmas.”

  “It’s big,” Matt warns me. “They’re going to love the two of you.” Looking at Tristan, he says, “There’s something I have to show you both. Come with me.”

  We head out toward the backyard, walk through the path that leads us to the house next door, but instead of stopping, we continue. After the third house there’s a huge lot.

  “This is mine,” he says, looking first at the lot and then toward the lake. “I bought these two lots after Jacob bought the house next to AJ’s. Maybe one day we can build another dream . . .”

  “You do buy shit out of impulse,” Tristan laughs, then pulls Matt to him, kissing him hard while shaking with laughter, “but I love you that way. Someday, I promise we’ll build it, our home. Once the three of us are ready, babe.”

  Someday. I look around, wondering when that day will come and how long we’ll have to wait before we reach that stage.

  Revising contracts wasn’t my plan for the night. My choices about what to do shortened when Thea and Matt agreed to work in the living room. Who knew that the man works all night long? Thea. She knows more about him than I do. “Because unlike you two, I like to ask questions, stay informed,” she said with an unlike bratty voice that made me laugh, and I joined them.

  Mason Bradley is lending her an apartment only a couple of miles from here. His father’s apartment to be exact. He’s only charging her a small portion of rent since it’s for family. Matt and I didn’t like the idea of her not living with us. But in the end she made sense. Before she can live with us, she needs to find herself.

  My attention has been everywhere but where it should be. Observing them. Studying each detail about them. Matt reading, sticking out the tip of his tongue to the left side while he’s at it. Thea squints each time she uses her pliers. Creating amazing things and looking beautiful.

  Thea’s hair is tied into a braid that falls to the side, letting me see the few butterflies tatted on her back. Her ankle bracelet has a butterfly charm. Matt calls her Butterfly. I do too, but I want to know why. “What’s with the butterflies?”

  “She’s a butterfly.” Matt’s brilliant eyes meet mine. “Majestic, free, and colorful.”

  “My brother used to call me butterfly. Not sure why.” The sad, trembling voice continues to explain. “When I was seventeen, I learned from . . . from someone what they represent or mean in different cultures. Rebirth, transformation, elevation of the soul, the ability of change when needed, among other things. Butterflies teach you to let go of old shit, behaviors, addictions, or whatever it is you need, then retrieve and come out being a better version of yourself.”

  Thea’s eyes focus on the task of creating whatever she’s doing and forgetting that she was talking to us. Matt and I look at each other. We both shrug. The conversation ended abruptly. At the very least I expected something more about the brother.

  “Do you have a favorite animal?” She lifts her gaze, looking at me attentively.

  I shake my head.

  “You, Matt?”

  “Owls.” His lips stretch into a smile. “There’re many kinds�
�regal, powerful—and they’re the night-watchers.”

  “Protectors,” Thea adds. “They’re the night protectors too, and many cultures have linked them with wisdom and guardianship of the underworld.”

  “You have one?” I’m curious, as she has many bracelets.

  “A couple.” She smiles proudly, showing me a charm on her bracelet.

  Matt draws a line along her arm and kisses her bare shoulder. “The other one?”

  “One day I might show you, Mattie.” She kisses him back. “Go back to work.”

  Thea and I go to the gym, then the farmer’s market, and finally come home to find a stylish woman standing in our foyer, staring at our guy. She’s tall, slim, and has glossy black hair cascading down her bare back. Tristan’s clenched jaw and hard eyes upset Thea, who surprisingly walks to him and kisses his lips.

  “Are we interrupting something?” I ask, moving around the woman that in my old days, I’d be tapping against some wall, no questions asked.

  “You’re with her?” Unknown woman scrunches her pointy nose, directing her attention at our girl. Tristan pulls Thea to his side, and nods. “Your parents would die if they see you with that. Tristan, you can only escape your future for so long. Your family and mine have to merge soon. My father’s company needs it.”

  “Yes, Victoria, she’s my girlfriend. If you’ll excuse us, we have things to do. As I said when you arrived, I’m not interested.” His menacing voice doesn’t go unnoticed. “I can’t believe my mother gave you my address. Look, my life is here in Seattle, Victoria.”

  Yes, listen to him, woman. He has a life here. I try to kill the smirk on my face, but his words make my chest swell. It’ll be cool if he can say, “Meet my boyfriend, Matt, and this is our beautiful girlfriend, Thea,” but I’m thinking we are a long way off from that.

  “I thought you lived in L.A.” That whiney screech deafens me for a few seconds.

  “If that’s all, Victoria, I think you have to leave.”

  “This can’t be the end of it.” She stomps her foot. “I sacrificed a lot already.”

  I walk to the door, open it for her, and slam it once she’s on the other side of it.

  “You okay, Butterfly?” Coop holds her tighter, kissing her. “You look weary.”

  “Who is she?” Thea doesn’t respond to his question. I take her hand and kiss it, in case she isn’t okay.

  “Victoria. My parents want me to marry her.”

  “Are you going to?” Thea’s voice shakes.

  “No, Thea, I’m not. If I ever marry, it’d be to you—or Matt.” His head drops on her shoulder and he closes his eyes. “Fuck. Did I just say that?”

  “Yes, because you’re letting yourself be happy,” Thea answers. “We all are doing our best to understand our relationship. Enjoy it.”

  This is a different version of Thea—a woman who believes in herself and us. If I could, I’d take them to bed and love them for the rest of the day. Fuck knows I’m horny. My hand has been getting a workout as of late. But they’re not ready and I respect that. We only have one day to enjoy Thea all day long, as tomorrow she moves into the old building where I used to live when Jacob and I first moved to Seattle. I’m curious about that place, as we’ve all ended up circling there in one way or another. It gives me hope that Chris did marry Gabe, Jacob married Pria, and maybe . . . I look at both and dare to hope that maybe someday we’ll marry. Of course, it wouldn’t be legal because that’s not allowed yet. But like my fathers, we can make something of our own and wait for years until one day society catches up and understands that we all have the right to love who we want to love. Regardless of the popular consensus.

  The late October sun peeks through the clouds illuminating the window in the meeting room of Cooperson’s corporation. Another board meeting, more decisions to make, signatures to collect, and a round of when are you taking your father’s chair? is in order. I held my words, the same way I held my breath. Staying present but regretting my visit. Things don’t look good, but I prefer not to give any input on how they could improve. One thing would lead to another and like the stupid, obedient son that I am sometimes, I’ll be taking over out of guilt.

  Butterfly: Hey Mr. Cooperson, are you busy, or can I be your ten o’clock? *winks*

  Coop: Are you flirting?

  Butterfly: Nah, just checking on you. You were stressed out during our morning call. Mattie’s worried too.

  My woman just erased the tension and relaxed my lungs, so I’m able to breathe again. Since I met her, my life has changed. I’m happy. They make me happy. It’s been almost six weeks since she had a nervous breakdown, but some nights I believe that was for the best. Each one of us is working toward being together. She’s fighting her demons, I’m trying to work on mine when my schedule allows it and . . . time will make it happen. Won’t it?

  Coop: I love you, my beautiful butterfly. Fly down to Cali this weekend, I want to see you.

  Coop: I have to be in Cali this weekend, please come down with Thea.

  Matt: I’ll try and see what I can do. You know she’s afraid of the boogey man, and that’s where the asshole lives.

  Coop: No pressure, Butterfly. It’s a suggestion, if not I’ll be there next week.

  Matt: She’s on board. We’ll fly down on Thursday.

  Coop: Let’s stay in my house.

  Matt: I’ll coordinate that with Mason’s people. Call me tonight after Thea’s asleep. Maybe we can have cybersex because my balls are hurting.

  Coop: Jerk in the shower. That’s what I’ve been doing. I love you. Talk to you soon, babe.

  Matt: I do that three times a day, so I guess that’s what’ll do until she’s ready. I really love our woman—I love you too.

  I laugh, because he does. Adores her and kisses the ground she walks on, and I’m right next to him doing the same.

  My father clears his throat. I lift my gaze and everyone is watching me. “Sorry, the club is having a new promotional and . . . you wouldn’t understand.”

  “Well, gentlemen, I think that’s all for today. Thank you for coming,” my father says, glaring at me. “Tristan, I’ll see you in my office, now.”

  I swallow hard, gather my things, and like the good boy I am, walk to his office.

  “This meeting was critical to the future of this company, Tristan.” He slams the door and storms toward me stopping just far enough to reach me but not too close. I toy with the idea of moving away. It’s the kid in me afraid that he’s going to use his fists. “Where were you?” He pokes his temple. “Not here, with us. We can’t leave anything to chance. I need you here. Sell your stuff and move back.”

  “You want my opinion?” I swallow back again. “You sell your stuff and leave me the hell alone.”

  I flinch the moment he raises his hand, but the sound of the handle opening stops him right before it lands on my cheek.

  “Isn’t he a little old to be reprimanded, Daddy?”

  My sister. The pain in my ass. Dark, pixie haircut, same green eyes as me, and wearing a tailored skirt suit that makes her look professional. Fey Cooperson is here to ask for money. It’ll be for yet another fake charity that is in the middle of nowhere in the world. Two years abroad saving our poor, poor brothers and sisters in need.

  “I already told you, Fey, no,” my dad says with the least endearing line I’ve ever heard toward the apple of his eye.

  “But, Daddy.” She stomps one pricey heel against the carpet. “You don’t understand; helping others is my life.”

  “Help me, Fey, convince your brother to move back to Hartford,” Dad says in exchange. “Then maybe he can find the money to sponsor your ridiculous trips.”

  “Try your trust fund,” I suggest, knowing that she blew it the moment she had access to it. “You can even use that money to help the food-packing division of our father’s company.” I give my father a sharp nod. “There, I found you money for both charities, now I’m leaving. Next time you have an impromptu meeting, count me
out, Father.”

  My changes in personality are like night and day when I’m around them. This is hard to keep up. I need to find strength to say no. Strength to . . . to fight for myself, convince them to accept who I am and accept my partners. With that last thought, I poke the elevator key and wait.

  “Hey, Trist.” Fey stands next to me. “Any way you can let me borrow some of that money?” I shake my head. “You know, I had dinner the other day with Victoria, your fiancée. She’s distressed.”

  “She’s nothing to me, Fey,” I clarify and thank the Lord that the elevator’s doors opened. “Have a good life.”

  Fey doesn’t take the hint and she steps right next to me. “Well, she mentioned you’re dating. A tramp with no class . . . but that there was a very attractive man there too. Any way I can convince you to lend me the money?”

  “You know, Fey, I don’t care what your poor imagination is cooking up there. Fuck off.” I step out of the elevator and don’t look back.

  As long as they stay in their coast and I stay in mine, nothing bad can happen. If Fey gets any closer to my girl she would shred her apart. No. Fey is playing games. She’s pushing me just so I lend her the money. I won’t.

  Matt: Cali is a no go. I’ll send you Thea’s new number as soon as I get it.

  Coop: What happened?

  Matt: Thea is okay, I’ll explain later. Love you, babe.

  I stare at my phone, split between flying home and going to work. Fuck.

  It was only a matter of time. I’ve always known this would happen. Time and again I trust her blindly and she betrays me. Why did I call her last week? The child in me still wants to believe. Still makes all the excuses:

  Maybe one day it’ll be different.

  Someday, she’ll clean up her act.

  At one point, she’ll actually start being a mother.

  “I’m sorry, Aggie,” she sobs on the other line. “I had to give him your new number. He needs us. The whole family. He’s my husband. I have to help him. He assured me that he’s going to fix everything, and that we’ll be a family.”