THE PLAYBOY'S VIRGIN (Complete Set)

by Mia Carson

  Belle smiled sadly. “You remember what she looked like?”

  He shrugged as she dragged him inside behind her. “Vaguely… very vaguely, but I used to dream about her all the time, and you. You look beautiful, and may I?” he asked, nodding to her pregnant belly.

  Belle nodded, and he placed a hand gently on her little baby bump. “Yeah, never thought this would happen, and here I am.”

  “I’m so happy for you both,” Brent said and hugged her again. “I’m sorry if this is weird, but I’ve been looking for you for so damn long, and then I gave up when I couldn’t find any trace of Mom or Dad, figure out why she abandoned us in the first place, and then I turned into a drunk, but got clean and now, I paint.”

  Belle burst out laughing, and he frowned at her for a second until she waved her hand at him. “Sorry. Greyson’s always going on about how I ramble when I’m nervous, but I never noticed. Looks like our eyes aren’t the only family trait we share.”

  Brent joined in her laughter. “I've always done it.”

  “Want anything to drink or eat? I’m not really hungry—morning sickness—but I can fix you something… or attempt to,” she said and tapped her chin, staring at the kitchen. “Maybe we should’ve gone out.”

  “Let me guess, you burn water, too?”

  She opened her mouth to say no but then clamped her lips shut. She moved into the kitchen towards the coffee maker. “Cooking was never my strong suit. I can make you coffee, though.”

  “I’ll take it,” he said and followed, keeping to the other side of the island. He glanced around, and when his eyes landed on one of her sketches, he rushed towards it. Belle grinned. “This detailing is amazing. Is this one yours?”

  “All the framed sketches are, but some of the digital work is Greyson’s,” she said, pointing them out around the house. “He never hung any of his work up, so I did it for him.”

  Brent nodded and moved around the kitchen, then to the living room, taking in every sketch and framed piece of work with a critical eye. He muttered quietly under his breath as he went, and by the time he made it back to her in the kitchen where a steaming cup of coffee waited for him, his eyes were wide with amazement.

  “You really are talented,” he told her with a sad smile. “I’m sorry, you know.”

  “For what?” she asked. “You’re not the one who dumped us at a church.” The words came out harsher than she’d meant, and she hung her head, which was filled with so many questions. Greyson knew the story, but said it’d be better if she heard everything from Brent. Theirs wasn’t Greyson’s story to tell. “Can you… can you tell me what you remember?”

  He tapped his fingers on the rim of his mug and nodded. “I can, but I don’t remember too much.”

  “Why don’t we go sit outside on the patio?” she suggested and led the way outside.

  The morning was already warm, but Belle always liked the sun and the heat. She rested a hand on her belly as she sat on the cushioned couch and Brent took the seat beside her. He set his coffee aside, looking around the backyard, and smiled.

  “Never thought one of us would wind up in a place like this,” he whispered. “But damn, I’m glad you did. I was so worried all those years, worried you’d wind up in a worse state than me… a drunk, a druggie… They never told me where you were. I asked all the time, ran away a few times too, determined to find you,” he said angrily. “But they always dragged me back.”

  Belle laid her hand on his when his eyes welled up again. “It wasn’t so bad for me,” she promised. “A few bad foster homes, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

  “We were so damn little when they found us. I begged them to keep you with me… cried, screamed, but they took you away in your blanket and I… I never saw you again,” he told her quietly. “They only ever said Mom’s name, Penelope, one time. No matter how many times I asked though, no one could say why she abandoned us.”

  Brother and sister sat in silence on the couch, listening to the birds chirping behind them. Belle didn’t know what to say and worried she’d pushed too hard, but this moment between them wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable, in a weird way, knowing she was no longer alone in her pain of that day so long ago. The day they were abandoned.

  “Mom’s the only one I remember,” he said, not looking at her. “Her eyes, just like ours, and her smile that was full of life and fire… I remember how sad she was the day she left us behind. You wouldn’t stop crying, and all I could do was hold you and sing to you like she did. The only damn song you ever liked when you were a baby.”

  Belle wasn’t sure what he hummed. Her ears perked up and a faint memory tugged at her mind. Her eyes slid closed as the tune washed over her, and suddenly, she heard two voices, a woman and a little boy? They sang the song he did, the one she stumbled across as a child and fell in love with.

  “The Parting Glass…” She trailed off as her eyes opened and she met the same blue eyes of her brother. “I remember it… She must have sung it to me.”

  She hugged him, and they laughed and cried together, singing the whole song word for word through their tears. Belle knew in her heart, in that moment, there was no more room for doubts about who Brent was. He was her older brother. She’d found her family and she was never going to let him disappear.

  When they settled down a little while later, she asked about the rest of their family. “No aunts or uncles? What about our grandparents?”

  “I haven’t been able to track down anything about Dad or his side,” he told her, “but I’m close to finding Mom’s parents and maybe they can give us a lead on tracking her down. She didn’t leave a trace, wherever she went. I have a buddy who lives in Canada, and the last trail I found said our grandparents were there, but every time I get close, they vanish.”

  “You think they don’t want us to find them?” she asked quietly. “You think Mom might be with them, running from us?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve reached out and never heard anything back, so I’m going to assume yes on the not wanting to be found, but I refuse to believe Mom’s with them,” he said and sighed. “If nothing else, they can at least maybe tell us what happened, why she gave us up and why they didn’t take us in.”

  “If you find them, I want to go with you.”

  Brent smiled. “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah, I am. They’re our only connection to Mom, where she might be, and maybe they can even tell us about Dad—where he might be. We’re their grandkids. We have a right to know them.”

  He nodded. “Well then, as soon as I know anything, I’ll come get you and we can go together.”

  “Perfect.” Her stomach twisted in knots at the idea of finding more relatives, and maybe learning why, if their mom had to give them up, their grandparents didn’t take them in. Belle’s mind raced with the possibilities of what would cause parents to turn their backs on their son and daughter. She’d tell Greyson about it later and hopefully, he’d be on board with it.

  ***

  “Absolutely not,” Greyson said after they’d walked Brent out and closed the door behind him. He turned around to find Belle glaring at him, her arms crossed over her chest and toe tapping the floor. “Don’t give me that look. You’re not taking off to Canada with a guy you just met!”

  “He’s my brother,” she argued. “Weren’t you the one who said I needed to trust him?”

  “Yeah, to meet him, not gallivant off to another country to track grandparents who may or may not be yours.”

  He clenched his hands into tight fists as his worry and anger warred with each other. He’d left his office an hour earlier to find Belle and Brent on the back patio, laughing hysterically as they talked about their childhoods. His heart lightened because Belle was so happy, but Brent filled him in on what he planned on doing. The second Belle said she was game for tagging along, Greyson wanted to deck the guy for even bringing it up.

  “Why can’t I go?” she demanded.

  “Why? First, they might not
even be your real grandparents. Second, you just met this man and you want to fly off with him? What if he’s still an alcoholic? What if—”

  “What if I get in another car accident and die? Or what if I stress out too much and lose the baby?” she snapped. “There will always be risks, but this is my family. They can tell us about our mom, and maybe… maybe my dad is still alive.”

  Greyson frowned and hung his head. “Brent said your mom is dead?”

  Belle shrugged one shoulder and pushed her tongue against her lip. “We don’t know for sure.”

  He grumbled and leaned his hip against the counter, torn about what to do.

  “I have to know,” Belle whispered. “I have to know what happened to them. What if they’re both still alive and need help? What if there’s a good reason for everything that happened to me? You really want me going around the rest of my life not knowing?”

  “Of course not,” he growled and cursed under his breath. “How about this? Just hear me out before you start yelling again.”

  She closed her mouth and nodded for him to go on.

  “I have to be out of the office Monday and Tuesday, but after that, if Brent tracks them down, you can go, but I’m coming with you, understand? You’re not going to Canada or wherever without me. Promise me, Belle. I want to hear those words come out of your mouth.”

  She rushed to him and hugged him tightly. “I promise. Thanks, Greyson, I knew I loved you for a reason.”

  He rested his chin on her head. He wanted to believe her, but there was a tone in her voice he’d never heard, an edge that hadn’t been there before. Pushing her would only start another fight and she’d had enough excitement for one day. He scooped her up into his arms as she giggled and carried her to their bedroom for a nice relaxing late-afternoon romp in the bed. Anything to distract them both from the ideas running through her mind of taking off without him. He saw it in her eyes and wondered how much trouble he’d get in if he locked her in the house until he could go with her to Canada.

  Chapter 6

  Belle sat up and cringed, her stomach roiling as she held it, and muttered. “Greyson,” she called out, feeling the cold side of the bed. “Greyson?”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, peeking out of the bathroom. “You look like crap.”

  She glared at him and he laughed. “Thanks for that.”

  When he reached her side, his brow furrowed and he propped up the pillows behind her. “You’re not going in today. Just stay home and rest.”

  “No, I’m fine. It’ll pass in an hour or so.”

  “For once, will you just listen to me?” he grunted. “Stay home. Rest. The office will survive one day without you, I promise.”

  She raised her brow and stared at him hard. “I faintly remember another time you told me that. Remember what happened?” He lowered his mouth to her, kissing her sweetly until she sighed and leaned back against the pillows. “Fine… fine, I’ll stay home.”

  “Good, I’ll send Mom over to check on you later. Want anything before I head out?”

  “Tea, maybe,” she said. “That sounds safe for now.”

  “I’ll bring you some, and while you’re home, no working. Binge-watch TV for a change, put in those movies you like to watch, I don’t care, but no working,” he ordered. “Got it?”

  Belle mocked him with a salute. “Yes, sir.”

  His lips thinned as he scowled at her, but he stood and went to get her tea. After he left it by her bedside, he finished dressing, kissed her on the forehead, and said to call if she needed anything. The front door closed and the Mustang’s engine revved to life. Belle settled back into bed, flipped on the TV, and was ready to find something to entertain herself with when her cell rang. She glanced over and smiled.

  “Hey, Brent,” she said. “What’s going on? You make it home alright?”

  “I haven’t left yet,” he told her, sounding out of breath. “I’m at the airport now. How fast can you get here?”

  “What—why?” she asked quickly.

  “It’s them, it’s our grandparents,” he said excitedly. “I’m hopping on a flight to Manitoba and heading to Winnipeg after that. If you want to meet them, this might be our only chance. They don’t know I’m coming.”

  Belle cursed her luck and threw the blanket off as she stood and moved towards the closet. “I have to call Greyson. When does the flight leave?”

  “Three hours.”

  “I’ll call you right back,” she promised and hung up. She tried Greyson’s cell, but it went straight to voicemail. Then she tried his office phone, but the line was busy, and since she wasn’t there to pick up the other end, she left a very brief message to call her as soon as he could. She said it was about her grandparents, but didn’t manage to get anything else out before Brent called her back and she had to flash over. “I can’t get ahold of Greyson,” she told him.

  “Damn. Well, you don’t have to come, but my friend called. There’s a moving truck outside their place.”

  Belle stared into the depths of her closet, wishing it would give her an answer, but nothing happened. Praying Greyson would understand and not hate her forever, she made a decision. “I’ll be there in twenty,” she said and hung up.

  ***

  Greyson finally reached his desk at four in the afternoon and frowned at the number of voicemails blinking at him. He tugged his cell off his belt and frowned. Missed calls there, too. A few were from Belle, but no messages. He picked up his office phone and played back the first one. It was Belle going on about her grandparents before the message cut off. He dialed the ranch to talk to her, but it wasn’t Belle who answered.

  “Greyson, thank God. Where the hell have you been?” Sally shouted.

  “At work… What’s going on? Why did you call me so many times?” His chest tightened, and he stood abruptly. “Belle, is she alright? The baby?”

  “I don’t know,” Sally said, voice shaking with worry. “They’re not here.”

  At first, he thought he’d misheard her, but then she repeated it three times and he gripped the phone harder. “Damn it! Did she leave a note—anything?”

  Sally mumbled and it sounded like she was running around the house before she let out a startled yelp and Greyson jumped. “Sorry, found a note taped to your monitor. Says she flew to Winnipeg, Canada, with Brent to find her grandparents, be back in the morning. Her grandparents? She found them?”

  Greyson pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tightly. “I knew she would do this to me. Damn that woman! Is there anything else on the note?”

  “Names,” she said. “Terry and Bethany Tinson.”

  “I’m not coming home,” he stated and hung up. “You just couldn’t wait.”

  He stormed out of the office, ignoring everyone’s stares and questions as he kicked open the door to the stairs and ran to his Mustang. He slid inside and called the airport on his way, booking the first flight he could find to get him to Canada and the woman trying to kill him with worry.

  ***

  In the car on the way to the Tinson house, Belle tried to call Greyson again, but she couldn’t get a signal. “Shit, he’s going to hate me for this,” she groaned and slouched in the back seat of the cab.

  “He’ll forgive you,” Brent assured her.

  “And if not?”

  “Does he love you?” Brent asked, turning towards her.

  Belle nodded. “Sometimes too much,” she said quietly. “He’s overprotective, that’s all it is. He’s always trying to stop me from working too much or making sure I take care of myself. Ever since I got pregnant, all he’s done is hover.”

  Brent laughed. “He loves you. Let him love you. It’ll be fine, promise.”

  The cab slowed as it pulled up outside a stone house surrounded by woods. “This is it,” the man up front said. “You want me to wait around?”

  “If you can,” Brent said as he paid. “I have a feeling we won’t be long.”

  Belle climbed out of
the cab, stretching her legs, and stared at the massive house. There was a moving truck still parked out front, and she frowned, wondering what type of people continually moved so their grandkids wouldn’t find them. Absently, she held her belly as if protecting it from whatever would come next once they walked to that front door. Brent rested his hand on her shoulder.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Not in the slightest,” she mumbled.

  “Good, me neither. Let’s go.” He smirked, and together, they walked up the long drive to the house. The front door was wide open and several men carried boxes around, rushing across the foyer and out to the truck. Brent walked right inside and Belle followed. “Hello? Mr. and Mrs. Tinson?”

  She twisted her hands together, waiting to see what her grandparents looked like, what they would do. A man called out he’d be there in a second, and Belle smiled, clinging to the hope that maybe this was a misunderstanding and they’d be ecstatic to see their grandchildren show up out of the blue, but when hurried steps entered the foyer and slid to a stop, she knew that wasn’t the case.

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?” the man Belle assumed was Terry, her grandfather, asked brusquely.

  “No, but you should. We’re your grandchildren, Brent and Belle.”

  The man’s face paled visibly at Brent’s words and he swallowed hard. “Everyone out!” he yelled, and the movers quickly dropped what they were doing to leave the house. When the last one was through and the front door closed, Terry stared from one face to the other then darted down to the little bump visible by Belle’s tight shirt. “So, you’re Penelope’s children.”

  Belle flinched when she heard him say their mom’s name so harshly. “Yes, we are, the kids she abandoned—and, apparently, so did you.”

  Terry’s face hardened. “We didn’t abandon you. We chose not to take you in.”

  “You bastard, do you know what you put us through?!” Brent yelled, storming forward.