by Liz Crowe
“We broke up the party. She told us where. A bunch of college boys, home on break. “AliceLynn says no one…interfered with her.”
“Why did she come to you?” Antony asked Margot, his dark eyes pleading for something Rosalee did not want to know, but thought she did.
Margot ignored him, hugged the girl then held her at arm’s length. “AliceLynn, I told you we should have come here first. Your daddy will take care of you and won’t be mad. It’s not my place, or my role, to come between you, to shield either of you from each other.”
AliceLynn’s eyes darkened. She yanked out of the woman’s grip.
“Not your role.” She wiped a shaking hand across her bloody lip. “Not your place? What is it then? What is your role anyway, Margot? I’m a little confused.”
Margot took a step back, her eyes wide with dismay. Antony moved slightly closer to her.
“Don’t back talk,” he warned AliceLynn.
Mark shot Rosalee a confused look, but the scene slowly unfolding in front of her eyes had her mesmerized.
“You know what? Screw you, Daddy,” AliceLynn said, her eyes flashing with anger. “Screw you, too, Margot. Because I think I know your place, and it’s right where I found you.” Her gaze softened ever so slightly when she focused on Rosalee. “I’m so sorry, Rosie.” She glared back at Margot and Antony, who now were standing shoulder to shoulder. “Your place is apparently in my daddy’s bed, isn’t it, Margot? And your role is to fuck a man who is engaged to someone else.”
Rosalee gasped. Antony lunged for her, but Margot grabbed his arm, and Mark stepped between them.
“I hate all y’all stupid, hypocritical adults. Yeah, even you, Rosie. I know how you really feel about my daddy and about Uncle Aiden.” She sneered at her father. “Y’all are just a bunch of…immature…idiots.”
She stomped out onto the front porch, whirling around at the top of the steps to face them. “Don’t you dare to tell me to act like a grown-up when you can’t act like a grown man. You won’t even own up to how you feel about her.” She pointed to Margot who seemed to be near tears in a rare cracking of her ever-cool exterior. “Or her.” She lifted her chin toward Rosalee, whose ears had started whooshing in a scary way.
She rose, but the room faded. Funny, she thought as she dropped like a stone—this is what fainting feels like.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aiden tried to grab Renee, to hide from the nightmares with her. But her side of the bed remained cold and unused. He shivered, and shifted to his back, staring at the peeling paint on the stained bedroom ceiling, reliving the last twenty-four hours.
He’d convinced Renee to come home with him Thanksgiving night, but she refused to have sex with him. They’d watched a movie, cuddled, and fell asleep on the couch.
When he woke up, she’d left, but not before covering him with a quilt and making coffee in his miniscule kitchen. She had left a note, reminding him to pick her up for their shopping trip into Lexington. He despised shopping almost as much as he despised doing laundry, but he’d agreed to it since it was one of her favorite activities. He owed her at least a shopping trip. Besides, he’d be lying if he declared himself above enduring the early holiday throngs for the sake of peace, not to mention getting laid.
He drove down to the salon to pick her up, but the girls there told him she’d gone home already, eyeballing him like he’d just murdered a nest of baby rabbits. As he meandered the few blocks to her fussily decorated, but tidy house, he pondered his make-up moves, discarding them one by one and settling on abject begging.
“Renee? Honey?” Dread settled in his chest at the silence that met his ears once he opened her front door.
“In here.”
He followed the sound of her voice and found her in the bedroom, draped across the bed wearing a black-lace bra, garter belt, silk hose and high heels. Grinning, he walked over to her and dropped to his knees, yanked her hips forward, and dove into her with his lips and tongue, reveling in her, loving her smell, and taste, and the noises she made as she raked her fingernails over his bare scalp. Once she’d come a couple of times and ripped the back of his shirt with her heels, he grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer, rolled it on while she lay, breathing heavily, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
Without a word, she got on her hands and knees and tilted her ass up with the sort of sexy look over her shoulder that got him every time. Feeling only slightly manipulated, he grabbed her hips, losing all semblance of control, pounding into her, yanking her hair, smacking her ass, and coming so hard he nearly passed out. He dropped down over her back and held her close, kissing her shoulder.
“It’s over,” she said, moving forward so he slipped out of her body. He remained on his knees, heart pounding and wondering if he’d heard her right.
“Sorry. I was a little fast on the draw.” He fell over onto his side, dragging her onto his chest. Even as she put her head on his shoulder he sensed the tension coiled between them like a poisonous snake.
“No, not that.”
Already fighting off a looming nap, he blinked when she propped up on her elbow and cupped his cheek. “We are over.” She dropped the Halloran family engagement ring in its antique box onto his chest.
“What are you talking about?”
Without a word, she reached down and tugged the condom off, wrapped it in a tissue and set it on the bedside table. When she climbed on top of him, the moist heat of her sex pressed against his, he dug his fingers into her thighs and swallowed hard. She took the ring and placed it next to the wad of Kleenex.
“You’re real sweet, Aiden, and I do love how you make me feel—young, and pretty, and desirable.” A single tear dropped from her lashes. Aiden got up on his elbows and opened his mouth, already begging her to stay in his mind. “No, don’t talk because if you do, I won’t be able to finish.” She grabbed another condom and applied it in silence. Her blue eyes told him clearly that this was the end of a potentially pleasant beginning. But of what, he imagined would be a fraught few years, ending in a divorce. Then something else gripped him, and his body reacted in a purely primal way.
He flipped her over, pinned her arms up over her head, taking her with a long stroke that made them both shudder.
“You are pretty…you’re sexy and incredible.” He sighed and bent down to kiss her, letting his lips hover over hers. “I do love you, Renee.”
She nodded and wrapped her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. “I know that, Aiden. But you love her more.” She arched, rising to meet him again and again, until they both cried out together. He kissed her at the last minute and the salt he tasted on his lips he realized didn’t only come from her tears.
And now his bachelorhood seemed firmly entrenched once more, with just a few more weeks until he had to stand and watch Antony marry Rosalee—the woman he wanted more than he wanted to draw his next breath. He sat, head drooping between his shoulders, able to see, smell, taste, feel, and hear her in his memory. He shivered and got up to take another cold shower.
Chapter Twenty-Six
December Seventeenth
Rosalee straightened her dress and took in the room full of family and friends, all there for this special day. Her heart fluttered and her temples pounded. Butterflies slammed around in her stomach, making her wish for a stiff drink—three or four stiff drinks.
She spotted AliceLynn at the front, near the altar, beautiful and grown up in her sleek, silver-gray dress, her hair piled up in a fancy do. The candles made her eyes glimmer. When she caught Rosalee’s gaze, the girl gave her a thumbs-up.
Rosalee gulped and gripped her flowers, the urge to bolt from the church and run far away never stronger than at that moment. She shook her head.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Lindsay touched her freezing-cold arm. “Jitters?”
Rosalee nodded, unable to speak. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth and her cheeks seemed packed with cotton. They’d done a quick rehearsal, but it had
been such a blur, she barely remembered it. At that second, she figured she’d screw everything up by passing out again, or something equally embarrassing.
Lindsay held onto her and Rosalee let the tears flow, acknowledging her gut-deep happiness with how things had turned out. But her chest ached, and her throat closed up in panic. Angelique hovered, blotting her makeup and offering her sips of water as they lingered in the church’s vestibule.
The crowd grew quiet. She peeked back through the window and saw that the men had gathered near the preacher. They were arrayed together, heads still stubbly, reminding her of Paul, who never had his hair an inch longer than high and tight from the second he’d joined the Marines.
She sucked in a breath, touched her stomach, and thought through a quick prayer for strength. The sight of Jeffrey in his mini-tuxedo and his own shaven head made her smile then burst into irrational tears.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Lindsay held her tighter. “There’s plenty of time for crying over them later. Trust me, I know. I married the original Love brother, remember?” She kissed Rosalee’s cheek and handed her a bouquet of deep-red roses bound with an emerald-green silk ribbon. The music shifted to something Rosalee vaguely remembered being chosen for the bridesmaids and mothers. She gripped Lindsay’s arm.
“I’m real sorry about all this. Truly.”
“Don’t be silly. There’s nothin’ for you to be sorry about.” Lindsay took her husband’s arm to proceed down the aisle, leaving Rosalee hyperventilating, tears running down her cheeks.
“Hey, there’s my wife.” A voice from behind her made her jump. She sighed and pressed her face into Aiden’s tuxedo-clad chest. “I heard you were back here blubbering and besmirching the family name.” He tilted her chin up and wiped her tears with his thumbs. “Chill, Missus Love. We have a wedding to attend.” He tucked her hand into his elbow then whispered in her ear. “I can’t wait to get you home. Let’s get this over with, shall we?”
She nodded at him, took a breath then walked into the church, ablaze with light and music. They parted at the altar, taking their places on either side, facing the back as the music changed. The organ music soared and Rosalee smiled when Margot emerged, looking for all the world like she’d just stepped off the cover of Bride’s magazine. Tears glimmered in her eyes, but she kept them pinned to one man, standing at the front, waiting for her.
Once Margot made it to the altar, Rosalee took the long dress trail and arranged it behind her then watched as Antony took her hand, gazed into her eyes, and mouthed, I love you. Rosalee caught Aiden’s eye over Antony’s shoulder. He winked, and mouthed, I can’t wait to get you home. She grinned and blew him a kiss.
What would be a weird moment suddenly seemed right. Relief that she had recognized it and acted quickly and decisively surged through her.
As Antony repeated vows he had exchanged a week before, Aiden kept his gaze on Rosalee.
Rosalee Love.
His wife.
He had come so close to missing this moment. Fate had such a way of tugging folks along in its wake, heedless of anyone’s desire to stop it. But luckily, this time, they’d all come to their senses, dropped an anchor, and halted the whole thing before it wrecked everyone’s lives.
Antony took Margot’s hand, slid a ring onto her finger, and she his. Then they kissed so long the crowd cheered. He worried about Rosalee some, knowing how very strange this must be, but thanking God in his heart and mind, again and again, that he’d been able to halt fate’s
inexorable progression.
That Saturday after Thanksgiving, he’d been sulking, drinking beer, and feeling sorry for himself when his phone rang. He’d ignored her first two calls then answered it.
“What’s wrong?” he’d asked.
“I need to see you. Now.”
“I’m home.”
She’d arrived in minutes, and he caught her as she fell into the living room, crying and saying something about “Margot, and Antony, and AliceLynn.”
He’d poured them both a bourbon, but she’d set hers down and taken his hands. “I love you, Aiden,” she’d declared in a shaking voice, making his heart pound at the sight of her wild curls and tear-streaked face.
“Thank the Lord.” He folded her into his arms. “Because I was about to move back to Iowa to avoid watching you marry him.” He cupped the back her neck and kissed her, picking her up and carrying to his unmade bed. She’d ripped at his clothes. Hers had disappeared. And he’d been over her, kissing her, inside her, loving her, and knowing, finally, he had found his home.
Later, she’d lain on his chest, and he’d been running his hands through her hair, wondering what in the hell would happen now when his life changed forever at her next words.
“I’m pregnant,” she’d muttered into his neck. “It’s yours.”
“How…I mean…but…uh…Antony is….” His throat had closed up, but a sense of perfection had surged through him at the same time.
“Antony always wore a condom. At least he did after our first time, and that would be too long ago.” She’d taken his hand and placed it on her stomach. Aiden had contemplated his hand then when he thought he could speak, looked back up at her. She’d nodded, biting her lip in the way that drove him mad with lust.
“Well, I guess I need to make an honest woman out of you then?” He hadn’t been able to stop grinning.
“Yes, but not until after we talk to your parents. All of us. You, me, Antony, and Margot. Together. It’s the only right way to handle this mess.”
“Wow, that will be interesting.”
“Something tells me your mama won’t be surprised,” she said, before climbing on top of him and dropping down to curtain them with her thick fall of her hair, shrinking the world to just the two of them—exactly the way he liked it.
Lindsay Love didn’t even blink when confronted by the four of them, arrayed around the living room in varying couples. Antony held tight to Margot’s hand as if afraid she’d disappear otherwise.
“It’s all right,” Rosalee stated to him, and to everyone in the room. She made a point to meet Margot’s eyes, which were wide and terrified. “It’s all right. I’m happy for you both.”
Aiden tugged her back to his side, loving her more than ever at that moment.
“I always knew having a bunch of boys would be complicated,” Anton grunted, before pouring them all a drink. “Never thought I’d be on the receiving end of this particular conversation though.” He raised his glass. “Here’s to two weddings.”
Lindsay held hers up, too, but eyeballed Rosalee when she didn’t partake, just clinked then set the glass down. Aiden took her glass from her, leveling his gaze to his mother’s, as if daring her to say anything. Antony took Margot’s from her, too, shrugged, and held it up to repeat the toast.
“Two weddings. Two birthdays,” the oldest Love brother said with conviction.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake.”
“Take the Lord’s name in vain over our grandbabies one more time, Anton Love, and I will throw you out in the barn with the horses.”
“Dollar in the swear jar, Daddy,” Aiden said, making everyone laugh with relief.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
July
“Goddamn it, Dominic,” Aiden grunted when the man ran over him in his quest for the dunk. The hotter-than-hell Sunday afternoon didn’t do its job—distracting Aiden from his near-constant anxiety. He’d left Rosalee at his parents’ house after church and dinner and got dragged into the weekly basketball game only because his wife insisted on it.
“Get him out of my face, please,” she had begged everyone. “I swan but he is gonna worrywart me straight into labor.”
He’d touched her giant, terrifying stomach, and kissed her. “Sorry. Rookie error,” he said, barely able to disguise the panic dancing around in his chest at the thought of becoming a father. Not that he didn’t already feel like one to Jeffrey. Although they had established a new relationship, still buddies, b
ut without tolerance for being treated like a babysitter. He’d been splashing around with AliceLynn in the pool, newly liberated from his floaties at Aiden’s insistence.
Margot reclined on a lounge nearby her equally huge belly a convenient shelf for her book. She’d waved at them as they passed, accepting Antony’s blown kiss.
With extreme reluctance, he let Antony drag him to the truck, and then to the park, where they unloaded the cooler full of water for now, beer for later, and drew straws for teams.
“How are you so calm?” he asked, glancing for the millionth time at his phone, expecting The Text from her.
“These things will happen in their own time, and all will be well—punk,” Antony said, before lobbing the ball into his gut. “Now get out there and draw some fouls.”
Thirty minutes into the game, he did forget it all—the stress over moving into her house, the self-publishing venture that had, amazingly, landed him an agent, the trips back and forth to New York without her.
“Yo, Mister Mom, stop draggin’ ass,” Antony yelled helpfully, as he passed over Dom’s head. Aiden grinned and used his size to his advantage, darting under Dom and Kieran’s outstretched arms for a layup, tying the game.
Rosalee had gone through management training and been promoted to a branch of the newly merged Lucasville Bank and the national chain. They’d even talked of moving her up to the regional office in Louisville after her maternity leave. Aiden had let his mother read his manuscript which she’d declared “sappy,” and helped set him straight regarding the fact that she had chased Anton and lured him into temptation, not the other way around.
Once he’d gotten over the extreme embarrassment when his father had chuckled and admitted that Lindsay Halloran had taken it in her head that the stable hand should be her “first,” and that their many intimate encounters in the haymow of her father’s fancy horse barn had been at her insistence, Aiden had revised and self-published his book, Family Love. He released it under the name, “A.L. Amatore,” taking back his family’s original Italian.