by Emma James
“Nothing to make up for; it was all just a day in the life of having a child. They mess up; we forgive them. It’s already forgotten.”
Whisper’s not got a mean bone in her body. She’s never used her past as an excuse to call on a pity party.
Whisper tilts her head left then right, watching me knowingly. “There’s something different about you, Torque. What have you gone and done that has wiped a layer of growl away from your surface?”
“I think this conversation can wait.” I place a hand on her back and gently get her feet moving.
We walk into the kitchen to see Boxer’s boo-boos have all been attended to because he’s standing in only his underwear and socks with his back to me while Doc completes the last of her medical duties with him.
“There you go,” Doc says cheerily. Boxer turns enough to slide a hand behind his woman’s neck and gives Doc a smoldering kiss on the lips. “What was that for?” she laughs.
“Love... just for being you and taking this all in your stride,” he answers.
“Well, I’m used to you getting hurt. I learn to plan ahead,” Doc jokes back. “I brought a full medical bag with me, ready to take on anything. Not that I was assuming...” She looks at Whisper, who has walked in behind me. At fifty-three, Doc’s a classy blonde who looks forty-three. “I certainly wasn’t jinxing today,” she babbles nervously like she is going to upset Whisper with her correct prediction.
“It’s okay, Evelyn, I’m so glad you came prepared,” Whisper says matter of fact.
“Speaking of suits... just the man I’ve been waiting for.” Doc motions me over with a wave before she’s pointing to the breakfast bar stool. “Sit so that I can take a look at your back.”
I contemplate the cons of sitting. “Doc, due to my ass admittedly wanting to call for the fire brigade, I reckon you’re gonna have to check me out while I’m standing, if you don’t mind.”
“Alrighty then, how ‘bout you strip, down to your underwear, and I’ll take a look at your...” She pauses as she thinks about the probability a biker goes commando. “I assume you do have on underwear?” she says, sounding unsure.
“Yeah, I’ll be decent, Doc.”
Whisper takes it as her cue to pretend she’s going to leave me to my privacy, but her curiosity doesn’t have a pair of legs, and her goofy grin has me looking to the ceiling as I silently countdown from one because I don’t need the three or the two.
“Um... Torque before you strip down, we’ve all just been wondering....” Whisper waits for me to fill in the blanks, and I’m not feelin’ inclined to help her out.
A blanket of silence lies between us all.
But that isn’t going to deter her. She tries again. “So... everything was all right with Flora when you explained what happened with Bowie?”
Whisper was playing coy earlier, not wanting to spring her questions at me.
“Yep.” I don’t need to make this easy. I unbutton my vest and remove it.
“Huh...” I think Whisper’s lost for words.
“Okay, let’s leave Torque to his own business... unless, of course, he wants to share while I attend to his injuries,” Doc says, trying to hide her amusement and failing badly.
Females, they all like to be nosy when it suits them.
I busy myself unbuttoning my shirt.
“Nothing to share, Doc.” I remove my ruined shirt, peeling the sticky material off me. We’re late enough as it is, so less gabbing, more stripping.
I unbuckle my belt, remove it from my pants, and place it on the breakfast bar next to my other clothing.
Doc starts quietly working on my back.
“Nothing at all?” Whisper can’t help sounding hopeful I will want to spill the beans.
I waggle a finger at Whisper. “Ahh... I see. You’ve been biding your time to be nosy, just like the flock of females in the other room. You were listening in to my conversation with Joy. Weren’t you?” I accuse the bride, who is trying her best to look innocent.
“Well, we all were wondering”—she motions to the three of them as Boxer coughs again and points his finger at Doc and Whisper—”what was taking you so long.” Yup, she’s having a lot of fun with this, I can tell from the glint in her eye. “I gather you are not immune to Flora’s—”
“Nope! And I’m sure, Whisper, you have already overheard everything you need to hear, including, I gained a plus one for the wedding and reception/party afterward.”
The bride has the good graces to look sheepish. “Well... I may have heard a teensy bit.”
I hear Boxer choking back a laugh.
I look sideways at him and glare. He’s not holding back his amusement and just shrugs at me.
“Darlin’, all I’m gonna say on the matter is it’s pretty hard to be immune to Flora; woman sure is a knockout.” I hold my hands up as though owning up to my next words. “Life is full of surprises.”
I feel Doc Evelyn pause with her administrations to my back injuries.
“Bloody hell, you work fast.” Boxer sounds impressed. I also know I have to show my brothers and any other single male at the wedding that I have claimed Flora, whether she knows it—they will. It will be up to her to break that claim if she doesn’t agree.
“Err...” Whisper shuts down like a deflated balloon, throwing a cute pout in for getting caught out. I’ve ruined her playful fun. A bit hard to tease me when I openly admit I find the female gorgeous, and I’ve already secured her as my plus one. “I think that’s my cue to go upstairs and update Lincoln to let him know what’s happening.”
I’m not usually this carefree and chatty with my thoughts and feelings. In fact, I’m never all about the sharing-is-caring, but there’s a first time for everything.
I aim to treat this day from now on, like it’s our first date, even if Flora doesn’t acknowledge it as a date. I don’t care she’s a single mother. I do care and hope the kid will accept me, allowing me to give his mother the attention she deserves, this evening.
From what I have garnered from our short conversation, it sounds like Flora’s never had the pleasure of getting wooed. I’ve got a whole lot of wooing to get under my belt, and if all goes well at the after-party, I hope to get another date. Still, I’ve also gotta convince the kid that I’m worthy of wooing his mother—considering I’ve never had to get a kid on my side before—that’s gonna be a ‘first’ all in itself.
The road incident has broken ice... the rest is gonna write itself as the pages turn.
“Knock-knock. I have suits to drop off. Can I come in?” Phoenix’s yell is exaggerated from just outside the kitchen like she’s trying to act like she’s far away.
I drop my head, knowing full well what is coming.
“Of course,” Whisper hollers back, just as exaggerated while laughing. “I’ll leave you to it, Torque.”
I look up as Phoenix walks in with a Cheshire cat grin plastered on her face. She zeros in on me like I’m her next target.
“Fuck! News travels fast with this grapevine,” I rumble.
Lincoln’s phone is ringing. I know it’s his phone because the song currently playing in competition with Raine’s voice is Bruno Mars’ Marry You, and I know Whisper set the ring tone on his phone.
He snatches it up out of his suit pocket and listens intently while Ghost and Joel have their heads bowed, close enough to get the gist of the call.
There’s a lot of nodding, but it isn’t until Lincoln’s eyes slide over to me that I know something is not kosher and the fact Joel slaps his hand to his forehead in one of those “oh no” moments and Ghost adds crossed arms and a serious guarded look.
I take a step to the side, ready to head for Lincoln when Ghost puts his finger up and shakes his head, as though asking for a minute. Now the only reason I am gonna give him this time-out is because I like Ghost, and he wouldn’t be holding a finger up to me on my wedding day if he didn’t think it was okay for me to wait it out.
I feel Mathias’ firm grip on m
y arm reaffirming he can see what’s going on and telling me to wait and not make a scene. I meet his eyes, trying not to look as worried as I’m feeling because something sure as shit isn’t right and Lincoln is holding that piece of golden news from me.
And that certainly ain’t fucking kosher.
Down the groomsmen line, I hear a phone ping—Hazard’s phone, to be exact.
He swipes it up into his big hand, reads the message then he’s turning side on away from me and typing.
I don’t even need to look to know Lincoln is communicating with him.
Mathias’ hand grips my sleeve tight when I try to make a move toward Hazard, while he raises one finger to me as though commanding me to stay put.
What-the-fuck is with all the one-minute-fingers that are popping up like jackrabbits?
A while back I heard from Whisper with a short cryptic message about sorting a kid issue out and a delay, but now something else has rattled the phones.
Hazard finishes texting, and then I find myself pulled into a groomsmen huddle like we are about to talk game tactics with Hazard as spokesman.
Hazard has his arms around Slade and Mathias’ shoulders. “I’ll get straight to the point. Whisper doesn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but it seems that Whisper and the ladies are a little late due to an altercation with the kid next door. Whisper is very sorry for making you wait, but she’s on her way, shortly. Torque has everything under control, and she feels you might need a word with Bowie—the kid next door—when you have a spare minute sometime soon, which can equate to anytime after the wedding, but today is not the day. Also, Whisper wants to stress to you she loves you, and Bowie is still only eight-years old. Now I gotta read this last bit and… you know… we have to do as the message says.” He checks the message on his phone and starts reading, “Please trust that all is okay and everybody is coming soon and promise by pinky swearing with Hazard not to jump the gun and leave Cuvier Park and seal it with a pinky selfie.” Hazard grins holding up a large pinky.
What the fuck?
“That’s all I am going to get told?”
“Yup.” Hazard shrugs his big shoulders while waiting for me to link my pinky with his.
I can see the other guys trying hard not to crack smiles.
“You know more, and you ain’t telling me,” I growl low.
“Sure do, and now is not the time. I didn’t get told everything, but I got the gist of what played out. I did sense there was a lot more to be revealed, and I’m not grinning at Whisper’s lateness as I’m not entirely sure what went on there. Still, you need to remain calm, and as your ex-president, I would be bound to tell you it all, so they apparently aren’t gonna be givin’ the full account of what has gone down until Whisper can tell you. It sounds like everybody’s fine, and that is the main thing. So hurry up and fucking pinky swear so I can confirm with a happy snap of said fucking pinkies.”
I duck my head out of the huddle and look over my shoulder, and my eyebrow kicks up at Lincoln who holds both palms out as if to say “Dude, relax, she’s on her way.” Then he wiggles his pinky in the air.
Oh, for fuck’s sake!
I turn back to the huddle of smirking faces and one large pinky.
“I love my woman so I am doing this ridiculous thing she has requested for her and not you smirking bastards.” I extend my pinky, link it and wait for Hazard to take a proof-of-life-pinky-promise selfie.
Christ! The things I do for my woman.
We break the circle and get back into our positions.
Torque and Boxer are there; they would surely let me know if it was something I needed to be told.
Torque would not want to risk my wrath.
Boxer knows he would not want to risk my wrath.
Fuck it! I tug my phone from my pocket and call Torque.
Aannd it goes to voicemail.
Not helping!
I text Devil next.
His short response states: all is A-Okay and he and Zayne are looking forward to a slice of wedding cake each. With a happy face emoticon.
Fuck!
Code for they have been bribed by my woman.
Boxer next.
His text reveals: All is under control.
Fuuck!
Mathias leans over. “Just remember you pinky swore.”
Fuck’s sake!
I knock on the front door and wait with Bowie. I didn’t listen to Torque. I’ve been an independent woman for too long to be told to wait for him until he comes to get Bowie.
The excitement of Bowie being in the wedding party has been misted over by my darling boy’s antics. He’s oblivious to my nerves as we wait for somebody to open the door.
Bowie called Presley as we walked over to unlock the small side security gate for us.
I want so badly to start gnawing on my nails, but I mentally kick myself for even thinking to ruin my nails.
I need to woman up.
Nobody answers, so we knock again a little louder this time.
Bowie tries the door to see if it’s locked. It opens.
My son looks up at me. “Mom, Whisper won’t mind if we walk in.”
“We should wait to be invited in,” I answer, “it’s just manners.”
“Hellooo,” Bowie hollers through the open door. When did my boy stop listening to me?
“Buddy, that’s not poli—”
Presley comes skidding to a stop in front of us. “Hey, Bowie and Miss Templeton, come on in. If you’re looking for Mom, she is in the kitchen, but if she’s not there she’ll be up in her bedroom, but Gramps is in the kitchen with Nana Evelyn, and the bridesmaids are drinking champagne in the great room. I’ll take Bowie upstairs with me until we’re ready to go, but if I find Mom in her room, I’ll let her know you’ve arrived with Bowie.”
“Thank you, Presley, that will be great.” I notice Presley isn’t wearing his suit jacket. “Before you boys head off is your jacket by any chance ruined, Presley?” My motherly instincts are telling me if Torque’s suit got torn, the chances are that something has happened to Presley’s.
The boy looks sideways at my son. “Umm... there might have been some blood stained on it,” he mumbles like he didn’t want to get his friend in trouble. “Mom’s hands aren’t bleeding any more. She said I can still walk down the aisle without a suit jacket. The bridesmaids stuck me with the flower here”—he points to the breast pocket of his little vest—”so I’m all good,” he says proudly.
Oh dear! My anxiety levels have just ramped up higher. “Bowie, I’ll talk to Whisper about you giving Presley your jacket to wear, okay?”
“Yup.” He starts to take it off.
“Buddy, leave it on for now, and we can do it after I’ve spoken to Whisper. You both go play now.”
“Okay,” they say in unison and then race off.
I deliberately avoid the great room and head straight for the kitchen. I’m anxious to make sure Mr. Scott and Whisper are doing okay after hearing there was blood on Presley’s suit jacket.
Before I enter the kitchen, I inhale and exhale slowly to compose myself because I honestly feel like gnawing on my nails like a beaver with rabies. It’s time to rip that Band-Aid off.
I step through the door, too nervous to look up straight away.
“Hi, Flora, how you doing, love?” Mr. Scott’s cheery British accent has me tipping my head up and scanning the kitchen.
“Oh...my...” I silently breathe out on a whoosh of air, my hand on autopilot coming up to my throat. Standing in plain, tight, black trunks is Torque with his back to me while the doctor has him leaning forward, hands on the island bench in the kitchen, back muscles twitching as she inspects the grazing below his firm ass and on the back of his thighs.
My eyes take in the man. His broad shoulder has gauze on it. The doctor has already attended to his injuries there. The wounds my son is responsible for. My eyes travel back down to where the doctor is now on her knees.
I’m left dumbstruck.
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Blood is rushing to my brain like a flash flood.
I can hear Boxer saying something, but it means nothing to my ears.
Dr. Castille proceeds to peel Torques underwear back up over his tight, right butt cheek so she can attend to the road rash. I mean, she might as well have got him to step out of them with how much ass skin she’s revealed.
Oh... my... Lawd!
I quickly spin a one-eighty feeling like I should not have burst into the kitchen.
From what I got a glimpse of, his butt looked angry and sore.
“Bloody hell man, you’ve turned Flora to mush with your arse.” Mr. Scott is laughing loudly. I’m glad he finds my embarrassment at seeing Torque virtually naked funny.
“Honey, leave her alone.” I can hear the smile in Dr. Castille’s voice.
“Ahh...sorry for the interruption... um... I shouldn’t be here,” I squeak out my apology. Hold your shit together, woman. I clear my throat. I’m not a teenager, even though the last time I saw a guy naked was when I was a teenager, which is not making me feel adult at all.
Toran was just a boy compared to—
“Flora?!”
I think Mr. Scott is talking to me, but all I can concentrate on is the fact Torque has a very nice, naked masculine body.
“Flora... Love!” There’s that British voice again this time to my left. “Earth to Flora, come in, Flora.”
“Sunflower!” Torque’s sharp, commanding voice has me spinning around.
“What?” Oh, yeah, that’s what.
Torque’s head is turned, looking over his shoulder with a big grin plastered on his face. “You do wonders for a man’s self-esteem, Sunflower.” He laughs loudly.
“What?” I shake my head a little to clear my mind. The man has all but hypnotized me with his body.
I find myself a little dumbfounded by my reaction. When Torque is fully clothed, my body reacts, but now I’m causing a scene because I can’t seem to look away. I have locked and loaded on this man. Dragging my head away from his fine ass seems impossible.
I know I should turn around and walk back out of the kitchen, but my feet don’t seem to want to move. I’m not sure if I should say something to Torque and apologize for his painful looking injuries or I should about-face and give him privacy and talk later.