“Gross, dude.”
“Feck off and get your arse to the hospital. Your services are requested.”
What the fuck did he need me for?
“Um, I’m not so sure I’ll be much help in a situation like this.”
“Oddly enough,” he sighed, “you’re the only one who can help at the moment.”
We were almost to Butte before it hit me.
I’d asked Rain to come along, thinking the moral support might be a good thing. She’d looked at me like I’d grown a second dick and murmured, “uh, okay.”
Now I realized why she’d seemed so shocked.
We were headed to Butte to see my friends at the hospital. In the middle of the night. She had total fuck hair. They were going to have no doubts what we’d been doing.
And they knew she was my student.
Stupid, stupid fucker, I berated myself. So fucking stupid…
But it was too late now.
Rain and I made our way through the deserted corridors to the labor and delivery ward. Hospitals seemed weirdly eerie at night, and St. James was no exception. Big. Old, by Montana standards anyway. Institutionally cold and creepy.
Fortunately, the patient rooms were a little less so.
The other Mofos had gathered, too, bringing their women. The mini Mofos were thankfully nowhere to be seen, which set me a little bit at ease. The last thing this night needed was Max staring at me or Eoghan saying fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck because of me. It was the middle of the night anyway, though. They must have been home with grammas and grampas or something.
“Rain?” Felicity quietly gasped as we walked into the room.
Aside from Sophie who appeared a bit drugged out of her gourd, everyone’s jaws dropped to the floor in pure shock. Even Brannon’s where he stood next to Sophie’s bed. His hand froze in midair from where he’d been smoothing the hair from her eyes.
Drew gave me a slow, cheeky grin. “I thought you didn’t fuck students.”
“Bite me, fucker,” I shot back.
Time for a new mantra.
“Oh, God,” Sophie moaned deliriously. “I think I’m having another one.”
Brannon went a shade pale. “Already?”
“There will be a wee Forrester before the night is through, I’m thinking,” Denny grinned.
“A Forrester,” Sophie said with a listless gasp as she attempted to breathe through the contraction. Then her eyes shot open. “Is Justin here yet?”
“He just got here, Soph,” he replied.
“The baby has to be a Forrester. I have to—” her voice broke with a low groan that she breathed through for a few seconds, and then continued. “I have to be a Forrester.”
“You will be, baby,” Brannon began.
“But I’m not yet,” she sobbed, looking up at him with tears in her eyes. “Not really. We just say that. We mean it, but we just say it.”
“Soph, even if we didn’t have time—which we do—you’re already my wife in every way that matters,” he tried again.
She burst into tears. “That’s so sweet,” she sobbed into his arms.
Fucking hell, Sophie was a trainwreck. I’d never seen her like this before. I glanced down to get a quick read on Rain. I didn’t want her to think my friends were a bunch of crackheads.
Rain looked sweetly worried, hopefully not that Sophie was off her rocker, but rather about her pain and the desperate tone of her voice.
“Justin,” Felicity said, waving me over. “You stand here. Let’s do this shit.”
“Do what shit?” Rain asked. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to perform a wedding ceremony,” I replied with a raised eyebrow.
Rain gaped up at me, completely astounded.
“Justin got ordained to marry Cody and I,” Ilsa explained to her.
Rain gave her a total WTF look before turning back to me. “You’ve officially shocked the hell out of me,” she murmured.
“We were mostly scared of what kind of date he’d bring,” Cody leaned over Ilsa’s shoulder to add.
Rain nodded. “Okay, that makes a little more sense.”
“Now, wait… Justin isn’t always dumpster diving for dates,” Raven frowned at Cody. “Lacey was his date to our wedding.”
“Rave,” Drew argued, “your cousin was also one of your bridesmaids, not really a date. Just because he did her doesn’t make her his date. You’ve seen some of the chicks he’s come up with before.” Then Drew stopped short, kind of flushing slightly as he looked over at Rain. “I mean, um… shit… no offense.”
“It’s okay,” Rain smiled back with a nonchalant wave of her hand, putting him a bit more at ease, “we’re just fucking.”
“Really…?” Drew trailed off, clearly more of a dubious statement than a question. He looked at me for a moment, studying me closely before tipping his focus down to Raven with a raised eyebrow. She simply smiled back as they shared some sort of private joke.
“Bran,” Sophie sniffed, “I think we need to hurry. It’s starting to get stronger.”
Brannon would have done damn near anything for Sophie on a normal day when her body wasn’t wracked with pain. When her hormones weren’t completely out of whack making Sophie turn from sweet and lovely to bat-shit crazy. The look he threw me told me I best get my ass in gear and get them hitched. He was clearly on the verge of bat-shit crazy, himself.
So I stepped forward. I quickly ran through what I remembered about vows, which wasn’t much, but I did get the part right where it was all “do you, Sophie…” and “do you, Brannon…” They both did the “I do” thing, and I pronounced them man and wife. Brannon leaned in to give her the sweetest kiss on her lips, and Sophie smiled up at him through tears of love and pain.
“Oh my God,” she whispered, and suddenly groaned as another labor pain hit, “I can’t believe we had a threesome with the guy who performed our wedding.”
Brannon grimaced. “If it makes you feel any better, he kinda touched my junk that night, too. We can be weirded out by this together.”
Quickly after Sophie became a Forrester in name as well as spirit, her labor really kicked into high gear. It was almost as if the kid had waited just long enough to get that formality out of the way and now couldn’t wait to get the fuck out.
The rest of us were ushered out to the waiting room, leaving Brannon and Sophie in there. Brannon’s sister Mira showed up and barely gave us a second glance as she raced into the room to check on Sophie’s progress before returning to wait with the rest of us.
As she walked back out, she eyed me curiously, then swept her gaze over Rain who stood close beside me. “Holy shit, Justin brought a girl?”
“Fuck off, Mira,” I snapped.
She looked over at Ilsa who nodded with wide eyes.
“Wow,” Mira mouthed back.
“I know, right?” Raven whispered.
“And she’s his student,” Felicity added.
“I thought you didn’t fuck students,” Mira murmured with a disbelieving shake of her head.
I rolled my eyes and glanced down at Rain who was smiling at my discomfort.
“It’s not a big deal,” I said to the rest of them defensively.
“Yeah,” Rain nodded, crossing the room to sit by Felicity, “like I said before, we’re just fucking.”
“Uh huh,” Drew nodded with a raised eyebrow. “So were we.” He gave me a knowing look and pulled Raven closer, kissing the purple hair back from her eyes.
“This is… different,” I shook my head, scowling as Felicity laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Rain said with a screwed up expression. Felicity just laughed even harder.
“How is this different than when they were shaggin’?” Denny asked me.
Well, I’m fucking a dude, too… I thought to myself, but didn’t share that bit of info. “It just is.”
“Mmm hmm,” Felicity nodded in sheer disbelief and nudged Rain with her shoulder. “Riiiight.”
Rain just rolled her eyes coolly and gave a dismissive shake of her head.
“Whatever,” she grinned.
Her carefree smile struck me then. Her ease with this playful banter, like she’d been a part of the group right from the start. She fit so well, so perfectly.
And it sent a cold wave of unease up my spine that lingered there, unsettling me as the night went on.
“Guys, meet Gracie,” Brannon said a couple hours later as we were led back into the room. He sat on the edge of Sophie’s bed holding a little pink face in a blanket.
The Mofo girls rushed him, dragging Rain right along with them, and the whole bunch cooed as though they’d lost their ability to speak like normal people. As I fought back another peevish wave of unease, I heard little squeaks about how beautiful Gracie was. How perfect and miraculous, even if her face was kinda squished and she didn’t even open her eyes.
Worse yet, the other guys looked half loopy, too. Once more, the domesticity of my friends made me feel like we were worlds apart. Yet, as they brought Rain into the fold like she was meant to be there, I almost wondered if it could be possible. If somehow… maybe…
Fuck off, I reprimanded myself.
I knew better, so I shut that shit down and forced an easy smile onto my face. I reminded myself who—and what—I was.
“Wait until Max and Eoghan see her,” Cody murmured quietly. “They’ll love her.”
I sure as fuck wasn’t Cody.
Brannon glared at him, but with a joking smile lighting his face. “Keep your little fuckers away from my daughter, or I’ll fire your ass.”
“You’ve been threatening me with that for years,” Cody grinned easily. “I think if you were going to do it, you’d have done it by now.”
Little Gracie, disturbed by all the touches and all the goo-goo shit, opened her eyes and let out a little cry. Brannon shot Sophie a panicked look, but she just smiled and held out her arms to take Gracie back. She held her daughter close with sweet little murmurs to soothe the infant’s distress.
The strangest emotion crept into my chest as I watched Sophie look down at her newborn child. The sheer awe lighting her face. The pure adoration that radiated from her, almost taking my breath away.
It was a mother’s love.
So that’s what it looked like.
I was quiet on the way back to Ophir that evening. Unsettled. A little angry, even.
I hadn’t felt this way in years.
This was why I didn’t like to feel.
I didn’t say a word as I unlocked the door and walked in. I grabbed a bottle of Wild Turkey off the top of the fridge and strode into the greatroom to flop down on the couch and take a long drink.
“Are you okay?” Rain asked, standing warily still and watching me sink into my dark mood.
No, I thought, but that’s not what I said.
“Fuckin’ dandy.”
Awkward silence.
“Do you want me to leave?”
No, I thought… again.
“Whatever you want.”
I turned to look at her, wishing the bourbon would kick in to numb the complete emptiness I felt inside. Her brows narrowed. She stepped closer and came to sit with me, lifting her palm up to cup my cheek. The faint touch of her hand burned through me, reverently touching me like I was special and precious.
It felt so beautiful, but painfully so.
I set the booze aside and tangled my fingers in her hair with a sharp tug. Her startled cry rang out in the quiet room, but I didn’t let go. My lips crashed down on hers, and I pushed her back down on the couch beneath me. I jerked open her jeans and stripped them from her in a flash, ripping my own fly open and quickly donning a condom from my pocket. None-too-gently, I wedged myself in between her thighs. The more she just let me, the rougher I became. Right up until I thrust hard into her so hard she practically screamed.
I looked down at her then, her bruised lips and hot, tearful expression. I stared into her eyes, suddenly afraid to move, afraid to let the beast out of me.
But then she kissed me.
Her trembling lips touched mine. Her fingertips brushed my jawline as she turned her head to deepen the tender caress. The warmth of her very soul thawed something inside mine. It released something bitter, something vile I’d been holding tight almost all my life.
The naked desperation ebbed away. Her hips rose up to take me in more fully as her lips dusted over my features. The darkness lifted a little more with every movement, like she was fucking the bitterness clean out of me. It was the strangest thing, almost frightening.
I let her. She soothed something inside me as she coaxed me to rock slowly into her sweet warmth. To lose that ragged frustration and kiss her back with something that almost felt like hope, deep and promising.
She kissed me when I came—a gentle brush of her lips to mine—and I sensed a whole new side of me had emerged.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “I was a little rough.”
Rain stroked her fingers through my hair as I lay where I’d collapsed, my head resting against her slowing heartbeat and her legs wrapped around my waist.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I’m a pretty tough chick… and just a teensy bit masochistic.” Her touch continued to feather over my skin, sweet and soft and sensual. “Are you?”
Her voice sounded hesitant. Wary.
I thought about what to say. If I should say anything at all.
But there was something about the way she held me… I had to.
“It was the way Sophie looked at her baby,” I began. Her caress stilled just momentarily before continuing on. “It touched a nerve. I don’t think my mom ever cared about me that much. Not even close.”
Silence.
And then…
“I’m trying really hard not to ask why you think that,” she admitted in a quiet voice.
“Because you think I don’t want to tell you?” I asked. “Or because you don’t want to know?”
“Both, I guess.”
“I haven’t seen her in years,” I conceded with a shrug. “I don’t talk about her much.”
Strangely, I found myself wanting to do just that. To talk about her.
With Rain.
Yet she had admitted that she didn’t really want to. This was something intensely personal, a pretty deep conversation.
And we were just fucking. That’s all I was really good for… to anyone.
I pulled out and shifted my weight off her to sit up, slipping off the condom and tossing it in the trash at the end of the couch. I tucked my dick back into my jeans and simply stared off into space, away from her, attempting to make the disappointment fade.
I didn’t really want to share anyway. Sharing was for pussies.
But then she followed. She curved her arm around my back and rested her chin on my shoulder.
“Why?” she quietly asked.
I looked back to her and saw her eyes fixed on me. Empathy and compassion filtered into her gaze, warming the cold edges of my consciousness. Bare, body and soul.
“She left,” I finally replied.
“I look just like my dad. My mom used to say that all the time when I was little. She called me his little clone, said with such pride.” I paused to take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. “Then everything changed. Overnight.”
“What happened?”
“My dad was slapped with a paternity suit from some chick he banged in a bar.”
“Oh, shit,” she murmured.
“Yup. My mom was so horrified that she could barely even look at me anymore. All she saw was him. His other kid who also looked just like him. A boy who looked just like me.”
None of the guys even knew this. I had never breathed a word of this to anyone. Not in my entire life. In my desire to be wanted, this rejection festered. It was something I couldn’t admit to a soul… before now.
“You have a brother?”
“A couple of them,” I replied. “My dad was pretty free with
sowing his wild oats. And my mom…” I shook my head.
“What did she do?”
“She just… stopped. She wanted nothing to do with him or me. Her devastation was so strong. She hated him more than she loved me.”
“Oh, Justin…” Rain whispered, her voice empathetic in the shadows.
“She left us both. She just walked out the door right in front of me. She moved on. Remarried. Started a new life. New husband. New kids.” I swallowed against the sudden swollen lump in my throat. “She knew there was nothing to stay for because I was just like him—not worth a shit.”
“That’s not true.”
“My own mother didn’t give two fucks about me, Rain. How bad do you have to be for that to happen?”
“I don’t believe that,” she replied. “I don’t know why she did what she did, but I don’t believe that.”
“I got birthday cards for a couple years. I got Christmas presents. I used to go see her for a month or so in the summer until I got a job mowing lawns when I was thirteen. I did that mostly so I’d have a reason not to go. I was an outsider there. I have two brothers and a sister there I barely know. I never became part of her family. I was always his son.”
“How old were you when this happened?”
“Seven.”
“Jesus, Justin.” She curled around me, drawing close with a quiet sob into my shoulder. “You were just a little kid.”
“It was just me and my dad after that… and his revolving door of pussy.”
“What about his other kids?”
“Two boys. Two different mothers that never felt he was a fit enough parent to be involved. I never really got to see them much. He paid court-ordered child support up until he died, but that’s about it. They cared for their kids enough that they didn’t really want him around. Unlike my mom.”
“Justin—”
“They were right, though. He was a horrible parent. I’m proof.”
“What do you mean?”
“I fuck good. I play the bass. School came really easy, so I was a good student, and I’m a fair teacher. But that’s about it. I don’t really have any other redeeming qualities. Part of that is nature. I’m genetically an asshole. Part is nurture… or lack thereof.”
Hot Dirty Love (Copperline Book 5) Page 11