“You told him where I was!” I argue.
“No, I didn’t. I took him to you. There’s a big difference.”
“Tit for tat. I’m still pissed.”
“I’m not concerned with you being pissed. I’m having a baby. My parents and Grandpa Roy are coming in soon. You can’t stay away for long.”
Well, shit. I love Grandpa Roy.
“She doesn’t have to say much. Look at her; she’s glowing.” Bizzy eyes Grace knowingly.
“Oh, I see it.” The syrupy sweet response makes me want to scream.
“I’m not glowing! I’m exhausted, dead on my feet. Twelve hours on shift, one nurse out, and a reminder why I prefer to work nights,” I shoot back.
“Glowing,” Bizzy repeats. “Love, commitment, devotion, not to mention sexually spent. Been there, done that.”
“Me too,” Grace agrees.
I heave dramatically, pretend to gag, and glare at them.
“What?” Bizzy asks. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed, but it sounds girlie when you say it that way.”
“How would you like us to phrase it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Regardless, you forgave him. You worked things out, and did you apologize for your part in this?”
“Kinda.” I shrug. “There was a lot of apologizing on both our parts.”
“Thank God, I never want to go through that again. It was stressful.” Grace places her hand over her stomach.
“Stressful doesn’t cover it. I was a wreck,” Bizzy adds.
I glance at my two best friends, and the love inside me explodes even more than I thought possible. They were worried, and I can relate, remembering their journeys to fairytale land. This was expected, but I thought I had at least one more day before facing them. It’s time to drop the act and let them off the hook for meddling.
“I owe you a huge thank you for being my friends and caring enough to make me face what I buried long ago. It wasn’t easy, and my heart has never felt that much pain, but it’s mending now.”
They look at each other in shock at my uncharacteristic confession.
“Man, Mathis really did a number on her,” Grace says softly. “She used the word mending.”
“I wonder if it’s a total transformation? Maybe it’s an overload of sexual endorphins?” Bizzy poorly whispers back.
“Shut up, bitches, I was trying to be nice!” My eyes narrow in warning.
“Nice about what?” Mathis’s deep voice comes from behind me.
I spin to face him, and my heart flips in my chest. Even exhausted, he looks fucking fantastic.
He comes directly to me, takes my forearm and lifts it, inspects the fading bruises on my wrist, and kisses them gently. Then he places my hand on his shoulder and circles his arm around me, making sure to skim my breast as he goes. His blue eyes begin to glimmer, and I bite my lip, pressing into him.
“Missed you.” He drops his head to mine, kissing the tip of my nose.
“You saw me an hour ago.”
“That’s not what I meant.” His hand cups my ass to prove his point.
I forget all about Bizzy and Grace and lift up to meet his lips, stilling when there’s a collective exhale behind us.
“Sexual endorphins.” Bizzy sighs.
“The boob swipe was hot,” Grace adds.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath and then twirl. “It was actually a nipple swipe,” I correct them.
Mathis’s mouth goes to my neck, and he nips gently before sucking it softly, not caring about our audience. Their eyes bulge at his newly profound display of affection.
“Are those marks from the handcuffs?” Grace points to my wrist.
“Yes.”
“They don’t do that to me. They’re supposed to be soft.”
“They probably are, but not when you fight like a wildcat for two days to get out of them,” Mathis informs her.
“Oh, I didn’t know that. I never fight to get out of them.” Her face turns a shade of pink.
“I want handcuffs,” Bizzy declares.
“All my extras went to Mathis. We can order you some,” Grace answers.
“I need pointers.” She bounces excitedly.
“Jesus, shut this down,” Mathis says into my skin.
“Nope, you asked for it. Deal with it.”
“Bizzy, where’s your phone?” He changes the subject.
“In the car.”
“Shaw’s looking for you. Says it’s time to come home. His graciousness of sharing you is over.”
“I haven’t been gone long.”
“He says it’s my fault you were gone three nights this week, and he’s pretty insistent.”
“Oh, all right.” She pouts.
“Biz, the fun’s not over. I need you to take Claire to my place. We’re sharing a car, and I have to stay for a mountain load of charts and paperwork.”
I tense, my neck snapping to the side.
“I’ll be home soon,” he assures me.
I try to push my apprehension away. I have to go back to his place at some point. We discussed it this morning, and I agreed, but only because he was going to be with me. The thought of walking in alone makes my head spin.
Bizzy scans my face, her sixth sense kicking in, and she gives me a look I know well. “Actually, I’m taking her to our condo. You swing by and get her when you’re done.”
Grace picks up immediately, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “We need more time with Claire, and there is no sense for her to be alone.”
“I think it’s a great idea. I can see Brinley,” I add.
“A few days ago, you disowned these two and vowed to find new friends,” he points out.
“Yes, but I’m over it. Besides, I never disowned Brinley. If she’s going to grow up with any sort of snark, she needs me. We should start early,” I semi-tell the truth.
He leans to the side to study me, his eyes clouding, but nods without any further argument. “I need a minute before you leave.”
“We’ll meet you at the elevator.” Bizzy and Grace scoot by us, Bizzy poking my side in support.
When we’re alone, his mood shifts. “There a reason you girls think I’m a complete fucking dumbass?”
“I don’t think you’re a dumbass.” I turn into him.
“Then tell me why you three think I believe for one second you going to Bizzy’s house is better than you going home and relaxing. Instead, you want me to drag my ass ten miles out of the way to pick you up when I know for certain Shaw wants Bizzy in his lap, on the patio, drinking wine and making plans for getting Brayden this Saturday?”
Guilt seeps in, because this sounds exactly what they do each week before he comes to visit. I can’t dwell on it too long because Mathis’s arms tighten, waiting for an answer. “I really need to up my A-game,” is all I respond.
“Not with me you don’t, because that shit no longer works. It wasn’t your words; it was the attitude. The air changed, and your back tensed. Your pulse sped, and I could physically feel your neck brace.”
Holy hell, I had no idea that happened. “You felt all that?”
“Why the fuck do you think I kept you naked and vulnerable for so long? I needed to know how to read you after spending too long missing the signs.”
“That’s not fair!” I struggle to get away from him.
“Yes, it is. No more games, no more hiding. Remember? Or did I lay in that bed alone?” he asks.
Fuck it, might as well tell him now before this results in more drama I don’t have the energy for. “I’m not going back to your place without you. It’s too…” I search for the right word, trying to sound strong and yet gentle, “…difficult.”
His eyes flare, and a pain I’ve never witnessed before sets in. “I didn’t think, baby, with all that’s happened. It didn’t cross my mind.”
“I’m not weak.” I feel the need to defend myself.
“No, you�
�re one of the strongest people I know. We’ll go back there together.”
“I think that’s best.” I swallow hard, hoping to coat the dryness in my throat and breathe deep, hating these overwhelming emotions that keep popping up.
He studies me a second before kissing me briefly, taking me to the locker room, and getting my bag then leading me to the elevator.
A few of my patients yell goodbye from the rec room, and I smile, waving goodnight. Mathis stands with his arms crossed and mouths ‘I love you’ before the doors shut.
“Did he tell you about Charlotte?” Bizzy asks quietly, linking her arm in mine.
“Yes, he told me everything.”
“Does this mean you’re in the know about how possessive he’s been about you for years?”
“I think I’ve got a clue.”
“Thank God for that.” Grace nudges me. “Now, we can get to the fun stuff.”
Chapter 8
Mathis
Shaw waits for me at his door, and I get a sense of déjà vu from the last time I showed up here. Unlike that time, he’s wearing a shit eating grin and leads me to the bar.
“How bad was it?”
“Depends. On one hand, I should thank you and offer to buy you the place on the ocean you’ve promised Claire. On the other hand, I need to fucking beat your ass and bill you for the therapy once this is done.”
I wince, knowing how these conversations can go. I decide to start safely.
“Tell me about my condo.”
“It’s almost all done. Bizzy got Gail involved, and it was as good as completed. Grace, Doni, Nick, and a few of the players got most of it rearranged and followed Bizzy’s instructions.”
Gail is Shaw’s assistant, Doni is Grace’s mentor from Greece that came here and floats between countries, and who knows who helped Nick rearrange my furniture.
“Did they tell Claire?”
“Not to my knowledge. The subject came up once, but it was brief. I was concerned, with Bizzy’s level of excitement, that she’d slip up. I misjudged, seeing as how they have pecked at every other detail of your escapade.”
“I guess I owe Nick.”
“Oh, you have no idea.” Shaw’s lips curve into a smug grin as he hands me a drink.
“What does that mean?”
“You were probably solid until he showed here tonight with the hen party. He sat for less than five minutes then growled, went to his truck, returned with his noise-canceling earphones and iPad, settled Grace between his legs, and watched replays of last year’s games as the girls carried on.”
“Why didn’t he come inside with you and Brinley?”
“He didn’t get here until after she was asleep and the good stuff started.”
“Good stuff?”
“I didn’t camp out in here. I joined the party with my phone in hand. Thank God for expedited shipping, I have a dozen handcuffs being delivered.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, swallowing almost the whole drink.
“And that’s not it.”
“I don’t need to know more. I can imagine.”
“If my ears are bleeding, so are yours. This is where the buying you a condo comes into play. Apparently, I have a month of uninhibited, multi-position sex that includes lots of biting, nail scraping, body pulsing orgasms headed my way. Not to mention the extensive practice with perfecting the art of deep-throating.”
I gulp the last of my whiskey, hoping to hide my smile. No reserves, no embarrassment, Claire doesn’t hold back. “How much have they had to drink?”
“They walked in, speaking in hushed voices. Bizzy gave me the head’s up, so I knew what to expect. They coddled Brinley for a while, wore her out, and I put her down after her bottle. Then the fun commenced. The non-pregnant women requested martinis. I’ve gone through most of the vodka.”
“And the pregnant woman?”
“Grace has gone head to head, sharing stories, wanting more information and not backing down.”
“And you sat through that?”
“Two heavy pours of whiskey, my wife sending me suggestive looks, and did I mention the extensive practice with perfecting the art of deep throating?” His eyebrows draw together.
“Okay, I get it,” I lie because my ears are ringing with this whole situation. Claire has always been open about sex, but this is a new level. “Dare I ask where the therapy comes in?”
“Nick and Grace got into a throw down when she took off his headphones and wanted his opinion on, and I quote, ‘ball-sucking while sixty-nining’. He turned green, looked at everyone with horror, and carried her to our guest room. The girls went on like nothing happened while I thought of having the room scoured.”
“Fuckity, fucking, fuck.”
“Now, I’m traumatized from thinking about my baby brother and his pregnant wife sixty-nining in the same bed where Mom sleeps.”
My stomach rolls at the thought.
“If things went the right way, you may not actually owe Nick,” Shaw surmises, sipping his drink and refilling mine.
“But I will say, the topless incident, I’d be in prison.”
“You have no idea.”
The patio door opens, and Nick stalks in, looking sick again. “You have less than a minute to shut this down. I’m done. I’ve spent countless hours in the locker room and showers with men. I’ve traveled around the world with guys who have their eye on pussy twenty-four seven, and I’ve never cringed. They are no match to these women.”
“What happened now?”
“They’ve moved the discussion to Tumblr porn and have now confiscated my iPad.”
Shaw and I move together, out the door in an instant to find the girls cackling uncontrollably at something on the screen. I reach to grab the device until Claire turns it to me, and I spot a baby boy doing some kind of dance.
“The opportunity to screw with you guys was too much.” She hiccups.
“We’re going home,” I announce and actually sense my brothers’ relief at my back.
“Right, your place we go.” She hauls up, giving the iPad to Grace and kissing them both on the cheek before coming to me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “They know almost everything now. We should be good for a few days.”
“Sounds like they know more than almost everything. Think it will hold them until Monthly Dinner Night?”
She looks over her shoulder. “You good ‘til MDN?”
Bizzy and Grace nod, smiling widely, and Shaw and Nick shoot me an appreciative glance.
“Time to go, baby.” I turn to the door, carrying most of her weight. She sways twice, plants her feet, and turns back to my family before falling into my chest.
“I’m going to say this, and then we will never speak of it again because it’s the mushy shit you guys do. But I love Mathis, I love you all, and I’m glad we don’t have to go through the awkwardness of us breaking up because it would suck to lose this.”
At this, I’m done, lifting her and carrying her away to the sound of Bizzy and Grace giggling.
I stand in the doorway of what is now our bedroom and watch Claire sleep, taking in the changes. They’re not perfect, but they’ll do until she has time to arrange the way she wants. Bizzy and the rest of the crew did well with what I asked in the short period of time.
Claire flips to her back, exhales loudly, then face plants back into the mattress with a groan. That’s my queue. I slide to her side, gently curl her into my lap, and sweep her hair from her face.
“Hey, sleeping beauty.”
“My mouth tastes like death.”
“What does death taste like?” I joke.
“My head feels like ass.”
“Baby, I think you got that mixed up.”
She squints one eye and scowls. “Why are you talking?”
“Why wouldn’t I talk?”
“Because it hurts me when your chest moves.”
“I’ll try to contain that.”
“Gah! Now, you’re yelling! My hea
d’s going to explode.”
I try to hold back my laugh, but it’s useless when she begins to smack her lips. “Maybe that last martini wasn’t such a smart idea.”
“Or possibly the seven you drank beforehand?”
“Damn Bizzy and Shaw.”
“Bizzy and Shaw didn’t pour the drinks down your throat.”
“No, but they encouraged it.”
“Hate to point it out, but you and Bizzy are unstoppable forces when you want to be. You’ve even converted Sweet Grace.”
“Sweet Grace my ass. She’s got you snowed. She’s the devil incarnated.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
I move to place her feet on the floor, and she curves her knees at the last minute, going all the way to the floor. I try to help her up, but she bats my hands away, positioning on all fours.
Her right hand slides forward, followed by her knee, and she repeats with the left side. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Crawling,” she grumbles.
After thirty seconds, she’s only gotten about ten feet away, her elbows shaking and knees wobbling. “Let me carry you to the bathroom,” I offer.
“You can’t touch me. If you do, I may hurl all over your hardwood floors, and then I’ll hurl again thinking about cleaning up vomit. It will be an awful situation.”
“More awful than watching a grown woman attempting to crawl worse than my six-month-old niece?”
“You can leave now.”
“No way in hell. I’ve seen you do a lot of things hungover, but this is a first. You naked on all fours, your sweet ass in the air, crawling across my floor. I’m not missing this.”
“You. Are. A. Pig,” she sputters.
She grunts again, moving a little steadier, and finally hits the entry to the bathroom. “Victory!” she cries out.
I go to the kitchen to get what she’s going to need and hear a text notification.
Shaw— Therapy bills are racking up. Bizzy’s been puking since dawn.
Me— Probably not a good time to try deep throating.
Shaw— You’re an asshole.
Me— Why are you texting me? Take care of your wife and daughter.
Heartthrob (Bennett Brothers Series) Page 8