He turns in his chair and grins at me, his blue eyes twinkling when I scowl and narrow my eyes.
“How the heck have you gotten through three years without once touching that shit?”
“Ah, determination, love. Determination. We still on for tonight?”
“Hell yeah! If those idiots aren’t smart enough to say no to babysitting those monsters, I’m not giving them the chance to back out. Cammy is taking Ben and Mad.”
It’s been a hell of a ride these last three years raising two kids and three devil’s spawn, while keeping my family and friends together and trying to orchestrate a peace treaty between the Jasper men.
Eddie has not only given up the company to Luc, stating that he’s too old to care and too in love with his grandchildren to waste time on business, and has moved here to be closer.
He’s the reason Ben finally opened up about Wesley, and he’s so good with the two bigger ones that I hardly get a minute with them anymore. Everything in their lives is Gramps-related, and while I miss that connection, I’m just grateful that they have one old-timer to depend on.
The Terribles, as you know, are the most horrid little angels ever born, and they keep me on my toes—sometimes I dream about selling them to the circus just to get a break, but then I know they’d just give them back, possibly pay me to take them.
The Goldens are incorrigible and still going strong, hence my current luck in free, unsuspecting babysitting so that I can have one full night to bang my husband without puke, poop, or drool coating my body.
Cammy and Brody aren’t together anymore because, according to her, if a guy can’t handle her brand of nutso, he can kiss her arse, or something like that. I’m not too worried, since I’ve seen the way he looks at her, all super possessive and fierce.
He’ll chase her down and tie her to his bed one of these days, something I’ve sworn to help him with—it’s a secret on pain of death, since the Goldens will scalp me if they think I’ve gone Vader on them and joined the dark side.
Wesley, after almost two years of hiding, came back to the States—he’d spent all the money he made from my stolen ring and looked worse than shit.
Lucian refuses to tell me what happened to him, and I accept it because, as much as I love him, I still have to sleep next to the guy, and I don’t need to know everything he’s capable of.
And now, now I’m just happy after years of not really living and being a step away from total apathy.
There’s not much more to say, other than I’m blissfully happy with my crazy husband and crazier kids.
Turns out that when I made a deal with the devil, it was the smartest thing I ever did.
# End #
ONE WEEK
Chapter One
Becky
“Stupid freaking idiots. I hope they all get the clap and crab crotch,” I mutter under my breath as the hags that work in my office continue to titter and cast sly glances my way, as if by some chance I don’t know that they’re talking about me or taking the mickey.
Goddamned simpletons haven’t stopped giving me hell since my boss, Abigail Cox, chewed my ass out in front of the entire office and their mothers, for something I didn’t even do!
“Hey Becky? Is it true Abi’s got you on probation?”
I snarl silently and force my lips to smile, even though I’d like nothing better than to walk up to Trish and her coven and start swinging haymakers their way.
But my parents and four brothers had been adamant that I use my self-defense skills only in matters of self-defense. A lady does not beat the crud out of other people just because they’re spiteful.
Or so they all have been telling me since the fourth grade, when I’d given Duffy Simon a shiner and broken one of his teeth. They’d made me pay for the cap on his tooth for six months with my pocket money and made me promise not to use the skills my brothers had taught me unless I have to.
So instead of answering I keep the smile pasted on my face and shrug, something I’ve been doing so much it’s a wonder my shoulders aren’t lopsided by now.
It’s an attitude I’ve had to adopt for the last three months, after Peter Gunther, one of the top lawyers in the firm, had started sexually harassing me and spread the rumor that I’d slept with his disgusting carcass.
It’s the reason my boss is being such a crone—Peter is her secret crush, though from the looks of her, the secret is so out—and the reason I’m trying to ignore the ‘friendship’ offers from half the secretarial pool.
They want the dirt, and I refuse to give it to them, seeing as the only dirty thing concerned is Peter and his forceful advances.
“Oh, come now, Becky. Lighten up. We’re all friends,” she says, and they titter some more, driving me precariously close to the very edges of my temper.
I’m saved from assault charges and losing my job when my phone rings, forcing me to ignore their continued giggles and sidelong glances.
“Miz Cox’s office.”
“Hey, Beck.”
I smile for the first time and clutch the phone tighter when I hear Lila’s voice. My brother Grey’s fiancée is not only my best bud but one of the only people I enjoy talking to outside of my family. We’d grown up together in our small town of Granger Falls, Georgia, and have been best friends our whole lives.
I’d always counted on us coming to the big city together and spending our college years partying it up and enjoying our freedom. Thanks to Grey and his possessive ideas, I’d spent four years alone in a moldy dorm room, studying to keep myself sane while they played house and took things slow.
They’ve been engaged so long I’d started wondering if they’d ever get married. Now I regret it, thanks to the fiasco that is the grand wedding, a weeklong event that means I’ll be fitted, prodded, and poked at by every old lady in attendance.
Oh, and then I’ll have to answer a million questions about my still-single status and fend off advances from the boys Mama is sure to have lined up like a herd of cattle.
“Hiya, what’s up?”
“Grey called. His business trip is gonna be extended by a day, and he…uh, he asked if you could get Devon from the airport and bring him on down to the house for Wedding Week,” she says hesitantly, her voice more of a whispered grimace.
What? No. Hell no. Definitely negative.
“Uh, um, the thing is…”
Oh, why didn’t any of my brothers teach me to lie better than this? I suck when cornered and everyone knows it, which is no doubt why they’d gotten Lila to call instead of doing the dirty work themselves.
Grey or any of my other family would get a quick no and dial tone. Lila, well, I can never say no to her, especially not now, when she’s stressing herself to death about the little details.
“Oh, please? I have another fitting tomorrow morning and Mama’s going ape-shit about the roses I ordered and Grey’s—”
“Can’t he just rent a car or something? Please?”
“He’s getting in at Gate Three; I’ll text you the details. Please do this for me, Beck. You know I wouldn’t ask, but I’m so swamped,and—”
“Fine,” I mutter, rolling my eyes heavenward. “Just don’t have a freaking stroke the week before your wedding, or my brother will murder me.”
Shit. It’s not that I mind taking the time or making the effort where the wedding is concerned. It’s that I’d rather collect Hannibal Lecter from the airport than be forced to spend a two hour car ride with the oh so delectable Devon Baxter.
The guy is like, super-hot, and I’ve been crushing on him since I was thirteen years old and he was nineteen. I’d spent two summers following him and Grey around like a lovesick puppy until he’d very gently told me to get lost and lose the stars in my eyes.
Easier said than done.
I’ve kept the crush, though from a very far distance, and would happily have done so for the rest of my life if not for Grey and his stupidity.
“Thanks, babe, I owe you one.”
�
��No, you owe me like six for this alone, not to mention three months ago when you made me go on that date with your cousin Kurt. The guy has seven arms, the way he was fondling me!”
That gets a laugh, exactly what I was going for, and we spend the next few minutes reliving my night of horrors.
“You remember what he said to me?”
“Oh, Jesus, don’t say it, Beck!” she laughs, making me smile and giggle down the phone.
Kurt’s okay—for a pig, I guess. Handsome, blonde,and charming to everyone but me. He’d told me in a matter of fact tone that while he’s not a ‘chubby chaser’, my face more than made up for a lot of things, and that he could see a future for us after I made a ‘few changes’. And then the schmuck had ordered me a salad, and I’d had to force it down while he ate a rib eye and baked potato.
Asshole.
“Slade! In my office.”
“Oh crap, I gotta go. The Darkness calleth my name.”
“Good luck. And thanks again.”
Don’t mention it.
“Miss Cox?”
I’m practically jumping out of my skin by the time I make it to her office—while the others smirk knowingly—and stand a few feet away from her desk, waiting for whatever she has to throw at me.
“I have to leave for a meeting in five minutes. I want everything on the Anderson case on my desk tomorrow morning for the deposition, and make sure Harvey gets copies just in case he has to sit second chair. I don’t know what’s going on with Mia yet, and I can’t trust that little slacker, so make sure everything’s done for me.”
Bitch.
Mia is going on seven months pregnant and her doctor wants her on bed rest, since her workload has put a lot of strain on herlately. The fact that Abi doesn’t give a shit and has actually given her more work makes me wanna slap her senseless—well, more senseless than the twit already is—and tell Mia to get the hell out before these losers turn her into a revenant like them.
“Okay. Anything else?”
“Yeah, keep your legs closed and your mouth shut around Peter, or you can kiss your job goodbye. Now get the hell outta my office.”
Have I mentioned how much I hate her?
“You in trouble Beeeckyy?” Trish asks when I stomp back to my desk, her drawl irritating my frazzled nerves that last little bit that I need to completely lose my mind. “That boss lady of yours can be a real bitch.”
I don’t respond, because my mama taught me decent manners, but that doesn’t mean I disagree one little bit.
You need another job, Beck. Working for that viper isn’t gonna get you anywhere fast, and you know it.
Yeah, I do. I’ve been here going on three years, and I’m still at the bottom of the freaking totem pole. Not that I mind much, since I’ve sort of lost interest in law, and though I’m studying I have no interest in sitting for the bar exams. But gosh darn it, it irks me that I’m being looked over because of Abi’s jealousy.
Yeah, my life has turned into a real crap shoot, and to top it all off I’m going to be stuck in a car with the hottest man alive, for like, hours! How the heck I’m supposed to keep myself from looking like a drooling idiot is beyond me.
I’m literally a drooling mess at just the mention of his name, so being that close is definitely going to test my powers of coolness to the extreme.
Not that I’m cool or anything. I’m a little on the plump side, my hair is plain brown to go with my plain brown eyes, and I have freckles across my nose that no amount of makeup will get rid of.
In short—yeah,I’m short too—I am exactly the opposite of sexy, and so far out of Devon’s league it’s heartbreakingly sad.
Chapter Two
“You can do this, Beck. Just take a deep breath and plaster a smile on that face. Nod when necessary, and just pretend that you’re not practically pissing yourself when he comes through that gate.”
Easier said than done, I think, looking down at the dirty spot at my knee where I’d landed after tripping up the escalator and falling on my ass in front of a billion onlookers.
Oh yeah, maybe I should mention how clumsy I am. Always have been. I could fall wearing a freaking harness, and odds are I’d do it in a crowd.
“Well hey there, gorgeous. Please don’t break my heart by telling me you’re waiting on your significant other.”
I turn with a squeak and face plant into a brick wall, one that smells absolutely delicious and feels warm and….yummy. Two broad, steel bands shoot out and wrap around me, keeping me firmly planted on my feet and smashed against all that tasty hardness.
When I look up I practically have to roll my tongue back into my mouth, the guy is so hot. He’s about six one to my five two and so muscled his shirt looks like it’s painted on.
My eyes flit up and I blush, licking my lips in an unconscious need to taste the dimples that have popped out. Blue eyes the color of a winter sky smile down at me, and it’s a freaking miracle when I find myself smiling back instead of fish-lipping myself into mime school.
The guy is hooooot!
“Uh…”
“So are you?”
“Um, what?”
Cool, Beck. Just stay cool and you won't be making an ass of yourself.
“Are you gonna break my heart, gorgeous? Are you waiting on your man?”
The way he asks the question is so cute, especially with the way his lip pouts out and trembles beneath puppy dog eyes, that I can’t help but giggle and bat my eyes at him.
“You’re full of it. And no, I’m not waiting on my man, just a man,” I laugh, feeling the lie hit my stomach like a lead boulder. “My brother’s best friend is flying in.”
I’ve always considered Devon mine, always, even though we’re not even living on the same continent and despite the fact that he probably doesn’t even remember my name after the last time we’d seen each other four years ago.
Christ, the guy probably hasn’t thought of me once since leaving after a quick visit when Grey and Lila had their engagement party. I almost cringe just recalling the stumbling and clumsy hilarity that is me after two glasses of champagne.
Talk about a show stopper.
“Well, now I can breathe again,” he drawls, grinning down at me. “Name’s Dillon, and I am most definitely all too pleased to make your acquaintance.”
I laugh and step away, feeling out of sorts and jittery all of a sudden. Is this what it feels like to be attracted to a guy? I mean… But no, I am definitely attracted to Devon, have been for years, and this feels nothing like that.
All I’m feeling is a small amount of amusement and quiet, friendly interest. There are no butterflies or happy nerves. All I feel is…friendly affection.
Damn.
Why though? Dillon is hot, I mean seriously hot, and he’s got a big, open smile that makes me want to smile right back, but…I dunno, I’m not all tingly and breathless, I’m not thinking of what to say not to make a fool of myself, and I am most definitely not thinking about what’s under those jeans and his white shirt, even though I suspect any red-blooded female in my position would.
Bummer.
“Becky,” I say, holding out my hand for him to take. “So what are you doing here, Dillon?” I ask, pulling my hand away to scan the gate again.
Still no Devon.
“I’m here to get my little sister, Mags. She’s coming home from college, and I thought her big brother should take her out before the parents get their claws into her poor hide again.”
His tone makes me laugh, and I relax, reminding myself that being hit on by a gorgeous man is not a bad thing. I’m a little dumpy and what I would consider plain, so this is most assuredly a new experience for me. I should enjoy it, not look around for a way to fob him off gently.
“Big brother, huh? I have many of those creatures in my life, and as far as I recall they live to torment little sisters,” I tease, casting another quick glance at the gate.
“Huh, well, I can’t say you aren’t wrong, but the little darli
n’ has spent the last four years cooped up in a dorm with nothing but her books. It’s time for her to live a little.”
Damn, now I’m a little jealous. I’d spent four years being managed by my over-protective siblings, and the last two being managed as well.
My brothers even take turns coming up every three months to check things out and make sure I’m ‘safe’.
“So, you live around here?”
‘Here’ being Georgia, which is big, so I should have been more specific, but truth is I really don’t care that much. Huh.
“Yeah.” He laughs, tweaking a curl that’s fallen over my shoulder. “We should go out some time, ya know—”
“Rebecca?”
My body goes hot and cold at the sound of that cultured accent, and I feel a blush spread over my skin, heating me up in a way I wish the tall, teasing Dillon could have.
What’s the use of getting all hot and bothered for a guy who doesn’t even know you exist most of the time? He’s so…intense, and…he’s a playboy, I keep telling myself as I take a deep breath and turn, willing myself not to blush or start stammering the moment I see those blonde locks and gray eyes.
“Devon.”
The name is a breathy whisper of sound that makes my lips tingle and the jittering start low in the pit of my stomach. I haven’t allowed myself to even think his name since the last tabloid article had shown him smiling down at a reed-thin, leggy blonde who’d looked air brushed, she’d been so perfect.
Blech.
Yesterday had been the first time I’d so much as thought his name in years, and yet here I stand, feeling every bit the gauche, plump girl I’ve always been in his presence.
Those gray eyes hold mine for a second before going over my shoulder, the slight smile that had played there hardening when he spots Dillon and the hand still resting at my hip.
“I don’t believe I’ve made your acquaintance,” he says, his eyes trained on the hand that now feels like it’s burning a hole through my flesh.
“Oh, hey man, I’m Dillon, Dillon Johnson. Becky here was just about to agree to a date, ain’t that right, gorgeous?”
JARED (Lane Brothers Book 4) Page 71