The Hustle (Irreparable #4)

by KJ Bell

  “It is, but I’ll be okay. I’m really happy for you and Tug.”

  “Tug,” I giggle. “Not sure I’ll ever be able to call him that.”

  “Yeah, Aidan fits him more now that he’s grown up, and truthfully I keep calling him Tug for the sole purpose of annoying him.”

  I laugh because she laughs. “That’s what sisters are for, right?”

  “Yeah, but he’s definitely grown up. You’ve changed him, you know. In a good way.”

  “I think I just helped him figure out who he is.”

  “Well, thank you because I was ready to choke the little shit.”

  It feels good to hear her laugh and as we approach my mom and Tori, I realize how much I love Aidan’s family. As an only child, I never understood the bond of sisterhood. Thanks to Tori and Liv, and how easily they’ve accepted me, I not only understand the bond, I feel it. When they hurt, I hurt. I hope Liv finds someone who will treat her right. She deserves to be happy.

  Although Peyton didn’t think her father and I had anything in common, I discovered on day three of their visit that he’s an avid golfer. We spend the morning on the course, with Brady and Jesse completing our foursome.

  Mr. Miles ignores their lack of etiquette for the most part until Jesse howls in his backswing. There was some mumbling about my degenerate friends, but by the time we reach the nineteenth hole, all is forgotten. Mr. Miles and I discover that in addition to Peyton and golf, we also share an affinity for whiskey and cribbage.

  Brady and Jesse stay for one drink before they have to leave for the studio. Mr. Miles lands the lowest cut and deals the cards. I pick up my six cards, keep the four I like and toss the other two face down on the table, all while his eyes examine me. This is the moment we’re alone that I’m sure he’s been waiting for since he arrived in San Diego.

  “Is there something you want to say to me, sir?”

  He goes about arranging his cards without commenting, until he lays the two he’s chosen to discard on the table. “Okay, son . . . I fight fires for a living. There have been many times I worried if I’d make it home to my wife and daughter, but it wasn’t my fear I hated. It was my wife’s. Peyton’s been honest with us about how Javier’s mother died . . . I never wanted Peyton to end up with a man that put himself in danger.”

  I down a quick shot of whiskey to soothe my awkward frustration. I’ve changed. It takes everything in me not to resort to sarcasm and shoot back some comment about how I’m a nerdy, white-collar type so he needn’t worry. But the concern layering his features is real. I know because I’ve felt it. “I hear what you’re saying and all I can offer is the truth. That I no longer associate with the cartels, and I have no plans of doing business with them in the future.”

  “And Alejandro Torrente?” The accusation in his voice is enough to force me to do another shot before I say something foolish. I want Peyton’s father to like me, not for me, but because I know it’s important to her. He’s clearly done a lot of research to prepare for this trip, but he doesn’t understand. Not that most people could.

  “He’s Javier’s grandfather,” I say calmly.

  His eyebrows rise. “He was the leader of a notoriously ruthless cartel.”

  I know he’s Peyton’s father, but this inquisition into my private past expands what’s acceptable from one’s future father-in-law. Although, if it was my little girl, I’d want answers. “Look, Mr. Miles, I mean no disrespect, but Mr. Torrente walked away from the cartels. He’s Javier’s grandfather and I owe him a great deal. He’ll always have a place in my life and he’s the reason I can live without looking over my shoulder. As for your daughter, she’s a remarkable woman and I love her. And I wouldn’t hesitate to lay down my life to protect her. I would do anything to make her happy, including standing up to her father.”

  There’s a hint of a smile in his eyes. “You can call me Phil,” he says, hoisting a shot of whiskey in the air. It seems I’ve passed his test, and in a few short days, I can finally call Peyton my wife. “Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I have one more thing to say.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “I wasn’t thrilled when I heard you were a single dad.” My jaw ticks again. Javier isn’t a negotiable subject. “But then I realized something, son. Taking in a kid that isn’t yours and raising him like your own, makes you the kind of man worthy of my little girl.”

  “Thank you.” My voice cracks and there’s nothing more I can say to express my gratitude.

  After another two hours of drinking and an ass whoopin’ in cribbage, I call a cab to take us home.

  We stumble into the lobby, still laughing about whatever it was we were discussing in the cab. I sway, reaching for the button to my floor, but it keeps multiplying. With one eye closed, I think I manage to press it.

  Once I finally get the front door open, we practically fall into the loft, and I expect a good scolding from Peyton about getting drunk with her father. However, given the laughter around me, and Barbara staggering toward her husband, I’d say the women drank their lunch and aren’t in any better shape than we are.

  Bullet dodged, and I’d even go as far as to say Phil likes me.

  I can’t stop myself from giggling as I cuddle up next to Aidan, gliding a finger up and down his sweaty chest. “Do you think they heard us?”

  “I honestly don’t care,” he answers out of breath. I was only able to hold Aidan off for four days since my parents arrived, and I finally caved when he woke me in the middle of the night. He rolls over and settles on top of me again. Our sweat mixes when he rests his forehead on mine. The glint in his eyes tells me one time isn’t enough to make up for four days. “And I don’t care if they hear us again.”

  When I squirm, pushing against his chest, he laughs as his hand glides up my inner thigh. He doesn’t give me another second to protest as his hips push forward and he enters me with a loud groan.

  “Shh . . .” I giggle, stretching my hands above my head.

  He braces himself above me. My gaze works over the corded muscle of his abs, moving lower. I exhale a moan, watching his cock move slowly in and out of me. The intensity becomes too much. My back arches as I cry out, but Aidan’s grip on the side of my hips pushes me back to the mattress.

  Our combined sounds of satisfaction fill the air as he gains speed. The slow and familiar buildup starts low in my belly. I shift my hips so he hits the spot I know will send me out of control. Just as I reach the peak, light fills the room and a shadow comes into view.

  “Daddy.”

  I laugh, but only because the door is cracked open so Javier shouldn’t be too traumatized. Aidan groans as he rolls off of me. The heat we created feels like an inferno when he covers us with the comforter.

  “Yeah, kid?” Aidan says to the door.

  “Can I come in?” Javier asks, inching the door open.

  “Of course, come here,” I say, patting the bed in between me and Aidan. Javier climbs up on the bed. I’m relieved to see his groggy expression doesn’t show fear. He’s only had the one nightmare, but I know there will be more. “Did you have a bad dream?”

  “No, I heard weird noises. I think Mrs. Shaw has cats.”

  I lock eyes with Aidan and notice he’s exerting as much effort as I am to stay composed. We both know Aidan’s neighbor doesn’t have cats. “Well . . . You can lie in here with us if you’d like.”

  In minutes, he’s asleep, nestled into my side where I continue to comb my fingers through his soft brown hair.

  “Reowwww . . . Reowwwww . . .” Trying not to laugh, I move my hand from Javier’s hair to Aidan’s mouth to cover up his humorous cat noises. He pushes it away and that devilish grin is so contagious all I can do is shake my head. I narrow my eyes when he does it again. “Reow.” This time the noise sounds more like a whimper as he looks up at me with his bottom lip out and droopy eyes.

  I smother a laugh as he slides out of bed naked and holds his hand out. I stare at it like he’s crazy, which he i
s if he thinks I’m parading around the loft naked with my parents in the house. “I’m not going out there.”

  “Yes . . . you are.” His sexual confidence is limitless and the cocky grin on his face doesn’t exactly help in denying him. It’s a sexy grin that makes women weak in the knees and he works it to his advantage every time. It’s always worked on me, and he knows it will again. “Just across the hall.”

  It takes two seconds for me to cave. I hold his hand, sneaking across the hall like some silly teenager who snuck a boy into her house. But in another five seconds, I don’t even care as Aidan holds me against the wall and makes me forget my name, or where I am or who’s in the next room.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask Peyton as we walk from the loft to the Gas Lamp Quarters.

  “You’ll see.” I feel like a five-year-old when I ask again at the next block. She flashes me a look that silences me.

  When she woke me up this morning with news she was taking me somewhere and had a surprise that would allow me to truly heal and devote myself to her, it freaked me out. Her not telling me where we’re going makes it worse. I thought I was already truly devoted to her.

  After four more blocks, she finally yells, “Surprise!”

  We stop in front of a tattoo parlor I’ve passed a hundred times on my way to the office. I glance across the street to see if there’s some sort of wedding shop, but unless the Burger King or Subway is catering our big-day, there’s nothing.

  When she pulls on the door to the tattoo parlor, I make my confusion known again. “You want me to get your name tatted on my dick to prove my devotion?” I’m rewarded for my humor with a hard slap on the arm, which doesn’t deter me. “No wait, you want me to get a naughty piecing. I’ll do it if you do it.” I waggle my eyebrows, challenging her.

  Her jaw drops but her shock doesn’t prevent her from smacking me on the arm again. “Would you just go inside?”

  “After you,” I say, holding the door above her head.

  It’s my turn to be shocked when I spot Davey leaned over the counter, talking to a small brunette. He and Brady own a restaurant a few blocks from here. Last I heard, the place was supporting itself enough that Davey was looking to open up something else. I just assumed it was another restaurant.

  “Hey, Tug. Be with you in one sec,” he calls over.

  I turn to face the sneaky, albeit gorgeous blonde I walked in with. “He’ll be with me?”

  She holds her hands up. “Just hear me out.”

  “You seriously want me to get a tattoo? I think you’re confusing me for Brady.”

  “No, I want you to get a permanent reminder of Maria.”

  I’m flabbergasted to say the least that the woman I’m supposed to marry in two days is asking me to permanently mark my body with a memory of the woman I bailed on her for. “Are you alright? Have you been taking medication to help with wedding stress?”

  I swear I’ll have a bruise on my arm where she’s been smacking me all morning.

  “Are you done being an ass?” I don’t answer, one; because I don’t think she expects me too, and two; because she loves that I’m an ass. “Tori and I were talking and she mentioned Brady had lost someone he loved too, and that he got a tattoo so he would always remember her. I know what Maria meant to you and I just thought . . . it would be a nice way to . . . you know to . . .”

  As she struggles to fully explain what the hell is going on in her head, I decide to help her out. “Okay, I’ll get a tattoo if you do.”

  “Really?” She beams with excitement.

  “Yes, but I get to pick and you can’t see what it is until it’s done.”

  Her excitement vanishes. I watch her lips move back and forth with what I’m sure feels like a test of her trust. It’s not. I would be just as happy walking out of here ink free, but if she wants me to get a tattoo, she will have one too.

  “Okay.”

  My lips smile just as Davey approaches. We exchange bro hugs, and when I go to introduce him to Peyton, it seems they already know each other. “Okay, so are we going with the hot air balloon?”

  He waits on me to answer, but I feel like my knees are going to give out and the air has evaporated from my lungs. Over the last few months, I’ve opened up to Peyton a lot. I told her about the tattoo Maria got while we were apart and what it meant to me. I don’t need the tattoo to understand the impact of this woman’s love and what she would do for me.

  “No, we’re getting something different.” I take Davey aside and tell him what I want done and ask if he can do it. He has me follow him to a desk and works up a quick sketch . . .”That’s perfect, man,” I tell him when he’s finished. “When’d you start doing this?”

  “You learn a few things in prison.” I understand the reasons for his terse laughter. Davey was dealt an even shittier hand in life than I was, yet he finally seems to have it all together.

  “Alright, so you or the old lady first?” he asks, glancing at Peyton who just walked up.

  “You can go first,” she kindly offers.

  “Oh, no . . . and give you the chance to chicken out?” I look at Davey. “She’ll go first.”

  He leads us to his station. After Peyton settles in the chair, he has her lower her jeans so he can place the etching just above her hip on the far right side where we decided was the best place to get the tattoo.

  Her eyes focus on me above her as Davey explains what she can expect. “I swear to God if I end up with a dick tattoo, I will rip your balls off.”

  I laugh, quirking a brow. “You can always opt for the piercing.”

  She narrows her eyes at me as she warns me again. “Clean off, Aidan Hunter.”

  “Relax. I promise you’ll love this.”

  The buzz of the needle makes it harder to watch her grimacing, but I think about the smile I’ll be rewarded with later and tune it out. This is my girl. My only girl. It’s time she understands what she means to me and the impact she’s had on my life.

  Getting a tattoo didn’t hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. The real agony is not being able to look at it until Aidan’s finished. I try to excuse myself to the bathroom so I can sneak a peek, but my effort is way too obvious.

  My curiosity intensifies as I watch Davey apply the etching for Aidan’s tattoo, but at a distance where I can’t see the design. The wait grows less excruciating as the buzzing of the needle becomes hypnotic.

  Davey finally sets the needle down and applies antiseptic to the finished product on Aidan’s left hip.

  “I love you,” Aidan says, leading me by the hand to a full-length mirror on the wall.

  We stand side by side and my breath falters as he lowers his jeans slightly. I notice half a heart cut out like a puzzle. I hold my jeans as Davey removes the gauze taped over my tattoo before he leaves us alone. Tears form when I see the heart puzzle piece on my hip is the piece that fits his. They don’t line up exactly as Aidan is significantly taller, but the message is clear. There’s lettering scrolled along the sides of each half of the hearts, but I can’t make out what it says in the mirror.

  “You once said to let you in and that maybe you could replace the missing piece. You have, and I don’t have room now for Maria. Yes, I love her. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. I finally accept that.”

  I don’t bother to fight the tears. “It’s beautiful. What does it say?”

  “My half says, In the end all that resides . . . and your half says, in our hearts is each other.”

  In the end all that resides in our hearts is each other.

  I can’t get a grip on the tears of joy that keep stealing my voice so I can tell him how much I love what he did for me.

  “Maria will always be in my memories, but in my heart there’s only room for one love. That’s you. I wanted you to have a permanent reminder of how I feel.”

  What was supposed to be me helping him move on, has essentially turned into providing me with something I needed more than I realized. Confir
mation of his love pulls at my heart. If there was ever a question of his commitment, it’s been answered. We’re one heart.

  On a blissful summer afternoon, I stand under the oak tree where I proposed to Peyton, choking back tears as my angel appears behind Liv and Tori. The epitome of grace with her arm looped through her father’s, I can’t take my eyes off of her.

  The thought she put into having the wedding here erased every doubt I ever had as to if she really knew me. She knows actually who I am. She knows me better than I know myself. I wouldn’t have thought to choose this spot, but there is nowhere else I would want to promise Peyton forever. All the kids I’ve grown to love like my own are able to be here with me, in a place that got me through the moment that robbed me of my own childhood.

  Camilia walks in front of Javier, tossing rose petals to the ground and giggling. Javier plays it cool, but the focus in his posture shows his nerves as he balances the pillow with mine and Peyton’s rings.

  I turn my head to the right and catch Brady looking at Tori as she walks the aisle behind Liv. There was a time I rode him hard about how that look made him a pussy, but now I understand how difficult it is to prevent. One glance at Peyton renders me stupid, and when The Bridal Chorus begins, those pesky tears burn my eyes.

  It feels like an eternity for her to reach me, and in that solitude, I wait for doubt, for my conscious to try and plant some deep-rooted seed that I’m making a mistake. Nothing . . . nothing but adoration for this woman who loves and accepts me fills my heart and my thoughts. I exhale with the revelation that I’m finally free from the chains of guilt and blame.

  I’ve finally chosen right.

  Her father announces that he gives this woman to me, and I thank him, feeling the ache in my chest that she’s really mine.

  While her parents conceded to us not marrying in the church, they insisted on traditional vows, despite Peyton’s protesting that she wanted us to write our own. I may have helped convince her it was okay because I could never put into words how I feel about her.