Liar, liar pants on fire.
There’s no way Drew hadn’t already picked up Nova’s birthday present. Hell, they’d probably already bought her half the damn store.
Trent’s eyes promised to clarify later, and they also promised two other things:
1.) Obviously, it wasn’t something he wanted to say in front of Rim.
And
2.) I probably wasn’t going to like whatever the fuck it was.
Rimmel
Boone’s Farm was flowing.
Well, just into my and Ivy’s glasses. All the guys were drinking beer because, you know, Boone’s Farm was “lame” and “tasted like Kool-Aid.”
But I saw Braeden sipping it out of Ivy’s glass, and there was also the fact that he was the one who brought home the bottles.
Uh-huh, I had his number. It was 1-800-I’m-A-Big-Phony.
“Hey!” Ivy scolded, snatching back her glass and making the light-pink liquid slosh around. “Get your own!”
Braeden made a face and stuck out his tongue to wipe it off with the sleeve of his hoodie. “That shit is just as bad as I remember.”
“I think you like it,” I teased. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
“You wound me, tutor girl.” He placed a hand over his heart and rounded his eyes. “That you could think so low of me…” His words trailed off with a dramatic sigh.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re the one over there trying to steal it.”
“Not steal,” he admonished. “Just taking a sip of some memories.” I watched him lean over Ivy and kiss her on the temple.
She smiled and leaned into his lips. Her perfectly polished hand came up to rub at the side of his jaw. “That was a good night.”
“Yes, it was.” He agreed quietly and kissed her again before pulling back.
Ivy smiled up at B. Her blond hair wasn’t as long as it used to be. With her crazy schedule with her YouTube channel, her column with People, and being an amazing mom to Nova, she announced one day she didn’t have time for all her long, thick hair, so she chopped it off.
In a very fashionable way, of course. Ivy didn’t do anything unless it was fashionable.
Now she wore it as a long, graduated bob. It was shorter in the back but then grew longer in the front. The front section still reached past her collarbone, so I considered it pretty long, but it was shorter than she used to wear it. The strands were still blond and shiny. Sometimes she wore it blown out and sleek, which really showed off the steep angle of the cut. Other times, like tonight, she added some texture and wave with a curling wand and some kind of salt spray.
Beside her on the bench was a cordless baby monitor. Through the speaker, Nova made a sound, and Ivy cocked her head to the side to listen. Nova made another sound, a short cry, and Ivy stood.
Braeden put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down. “I got this.”
Ivy shuffled on her feet, as if she were considering just moving past him. B made a sound. “You’ve been doing it for weeks while I was gone. It’s my turn.”
Her blue eyes softened, and she smiled. He handed her his longneck and strode across the deck and into the house.
Braeden was an incredible dad. Probably the best I’d ever seen.
Romeo would be even better.
The thought stung, and I took a sip of the blue liquid that really shouldn’t even be considered alcohol. I had to agree with my BBFL; this stuff was terrible.
Or maybe it just tasted that way because of the feelings suddenly worming around deep inside me.
Ivy sank back onto the bench, trading his beer for her wine glass. “Earth to Rimmel,” she said, taking a sip.
I glanced up, shoved the empty feeling down deep, and smiled. “Good night for a bonfire.”
“Sure is.” She tucked one jean-clad leg beneath the other. She was dressed perfectly in a pair of dark skinny jeans and a silky, loose, wine-colored long-sleeved shirt. Expertly draped around her neck was a cream-colored, cable-knit scarf, which paired perfectly with the thick, knee-high, cable-knit socks on her feet. The sides of the thick socks were lined with round, wooden buttons.
“So where are you?” She rested her chin in her partially sleeve-covered hand, even in the nighttime lighting and with the fire sparking with orange and red flames, I felt her clear, blue gaze settle on me.
I laughed lightly and held up the glass filled with Blue Hawaiian Boone’s Farm. I admit I picked it because it was blue. It reminded me of Smurf Balls. “I’m over here thinking Braeden was right. This wine—and I use the term loosely—is lousy.”
“You’re totally right.” Ivy grimaced and abandoned her glass.
I did the same, and we both giggled.
“You ready for tomorrow?” I asked, thinking ahead to my niece’s first birthday party.
“No… I can’t believe it’s been a year,” she mused.
Before I could reply, the lights on the baby monitor lit up and sounds came through. Nova started fussing again, but almost as fast, Braeden’s voice cut through her cries. “Now don’t be doing that, Critter. Your momma’s gonna come up here and accuse me of not knowing how to handle ya.”
Ivy made a rude sound, and I snorted.
Nova’s cries stopped, and I heard his faint footfalls moving across the room. She made a sound I recognized as the same one she always made when she held up her arms to be picked up.
“Da-dadadadada,” she part cried, part babbled.
“All right now,” he said soft, and I imagined him reaching into her crib to pull her into his arms. “Tell Daddy what’s going on.”
Of course the baby said nothing.
“Gonna make me guess? You women are all the same. Always wanting us men to read your minds,” he muttered, but affection was heavy in his voice.
It was a little heart-melting for such a big, rough, and sometimes hotheaded man to turn into such a big ball of mush when faced with a little dark-haired girl.
“I’m just gonna get right to the daddy duties. C’mon, then. You can help.” He went on. “Let’s check the closet first.” The sound of a door opening and closing came through.
I glanced across to Ivy. Her head was turned toward the monitor as she listened to her husband and daughter, her eyes soft and her lips pulled into a small smile.
Oblivious to the fact we were listening to his entire interaction with Nova, B continued. “Nothing in there. Let’s look under the bed.” He made a grunting sound as they looked under the bed and then a few corners of the room.
As I listened to the entirely adorable moment, my stomach started to feel a little heavy. I fidgeted on the bench, tucking both legs beneath me tightly so I was sitting Indian style.
“All clear,” he announced. “Nothing in here to be upset about, baby. C’mon. Back to sleep with you. Tomorrow’s a big day.”
I imagined him nudging her head down onto his shoulder as he rubbed her back with a hand that was so much bigger than her. The sounds over the monitor went quiet except for the slight rocking of the chair near her crib.
I cleared my throat and unfolded my legs, about to stand. Suddenly, sitting still was just too hard.
Ivy reached out and clicked off the monitor, the lights on the front went dark, and the faint hum of static ceased. “Rimmel, I—” She began, and I got to my feet.
Romeo appeared soundlessly (how can someone so big be soundless?). I almost ran right into him as I fled. “Ladies,” he said, flashing his famous charming smile. Not far behind were Trent and Drew.
They were holding hands.
A simple act that really wasn’t that simple for them. It took a long time for my two brothers to be comfortable touching each other in any way when any of our family was around. They did it more often now, and it made me feel proud.
Proud because, clearly, the family we all built together was strong enough for them to finally be themselves without worry. Simply seeing them hand in hand seemed to bring me back to the moment. The cool fall air, the c
rackling fire, and the scent of burning wood.
“Brought you something,” Romeo said. I loved his voice. So familiar, yet it still affected me like it was brand new.
There was a mug in his hand. Against the night backdrop, I could see the puffs of steam curling up from the liquid inside. Cinnamon and spice tickled my nose, and a feeling of utter calm washed over me.
“You brought me apple cider?” I asked, reaching for the white mug.
“You hated the Boone’s, didn’t you?” he mused.
I snorted and pushed my glasses up my nose. “How’d you know?”
The warmth from the cup seeped into my fingers, making me realize how chilled they were. I lifted the drink, inhaled the scent, and let the heat brush under my nose.
“You’re not a Boone’s kinda girl, Smalls. You’re a cider kind.”
He was totally right.
“Well, don’t tell Braeden. He’ll never let me live it down,” I muttered, sipping the drink.
Romeo caught one of my hands and tugged me along, back toward the bench, but then we bypassed it to walk around the fire to a large wooden Adirondack chair. His big body filled it completely, and he tugged me into his lap.
I tucked in close, hugging the mug into my chest and closing my eyes for a brief moment when the back of my head cradled against his shoulder.
Trent sat where I’d just been, and Drew tossed some more wood onto the fire before sitting right beside him.
A moment later, Braeden came out of the house and across the deck. Ivy glanced around at him. “All’s good,” he assured her and straddled the bench she was on. Quickly, Ivy turned the monitor back on.
I gazed up into the inky sky at the stars marring the otherwise dark canvas. Romeo’s arm slipped around my waist, holding me just a little closer.
The sound of a phone going off pulled my eyes from the view. Ivy lifted up her smartphone, the illuminated screen casting a bright light over her features as she glanced down at it.
Remember how I said Romeo passed down a media ban on the house? Ivy’s phone was the exception. It was part of her job to stay in the know on all the celebrity news, etc.
“Really, princess?” Romeo asked, lifting his beer. “Can’t take a break for one night?”
“I thought I silenced this thing,” Ivy grumbled, but then her attention was caught on whatever she saw.
She glanced across the fire pit at Drew. His mouth flattened, and the air around him shifted.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Apparently, our two studly brothers were caught in some PDA today,” Ivy dished.
Behind my glasses, my eyes lifted. “What?” I glanced over at Trent and Drew.
“Fucking gossip hounds,” Drew spat.
“What happened?” Ivy asked, darkening her screen, then setting the phone facedown beside her.
“Nothing,” Trent replied. “We were out. The press was lurking and got a shot of us kissing.”
“Did you at least give it a little tongue?” B cracked.
Ivy elbowed him in the side.
“Ow!” he hollered.
“Idiot,” she muttered.
“This just happen?” Romeo asked.
Trent nodded. “While we were out getting marshmallows.”
Mmm, roasted marshmallows.
“I’m sorry,” I told them. Why couldn’t the press just leave us all alone?
Underneath me, Romeo seemed tense, a direct contrast to how he felt just a moment ago. I lifted my chin to gaze up at him.
His face turned down, his lips brushing over mine lightly. I couldn’t help but feel like he was offering me comfort.
It worked.
“It’s not a big deal,” Trent said. “Not the first time they caught us. Won’t be the last.” He seemed a lot less annoyed about it than I would have expected. In fact, Trent had a hate-hate relationship with any stranger with a camera these days.
I couldn’t even say I blamed him.
“How about those marshmallows?” I asked, wanting to change the subject and get back to what tonight was supposed to be about: family time, relaxation, and fun.
“I left ‘em on the kitchen counter,” Trent replied.
I hopped up from Romeo’s lap and brought my cider with me. “I’ll see if we have everything for s’mores while I’m in there.”
“I’ll help.” Ivy jumped up.
As we walked toward the house, I heard the rumble of Romeo’s voice. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, his voice so low and kind of quick.
I didn’t really need to hear his words, though, to understand something. Romeo wasn’t too happy with the newest headline, which I admit wasn't a surprise at all.
What was a surprise was the way my intuition whispered there might be something more to this, and judging by his tone, I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
Romeo
Something stunk.
And it sure as hell wasn’t me.
The stank of information I didn’t know but needed to had clogged the inside of my nose ever since I saw Trent in front of his garage.
It was all I could do to wait to hear it and not demand instantly to be in the know. The only thing that held me back—the only thing that always seemed to anchor me in a place of patience—was Rim.
She came first, and judging by the way Trent acted earlier, I was afraid whatever this was would likely hurt her.
I watched her small, perky ass disappear into the house, along with my sister, and decided there would be no more waiting.
“What the fuck is going on?” I asked, sitting forward, elbows on my knees.
The sound of Braeden’s beer bottle hitting the bench seemed to punctuate my demand. “What?”
Trent and Drew glanced at each other, and I growled. My patience was used up. Rim would be back any second, so he needed to spit it out.
“I chased the press off the shelter property last night,” Trent said to B, then looked at me.
“Vultures,” Braeden muttered. “How the hell did you clear ‘em out?”
“I made a deal. Offered them something they couldn’t turn down.”
“Such as?” I pressed.
“Exclusive guaranteed photos of me and Drew.”
“Man-love PDA,” Braeden mused, tipping his bottle against his lips.
I stood and paced in front of the fire. “You threw yourself at the press to protect Rimmel?”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Trent replied. Beside him, Drew didn’t seem so convinced.
I let a few choice words fly. It was a big deal. Trent and Drew hated being put on display in front of the world. The bigots and haters never shut up, and quite frankly, it put targets on their backs every time they were seen out together touching, even in the most innocent ways.
Trent was a private guy; he was very protective. Experience had taught him to be extremely cautious about who he let into his life, who he showed his true self.
I locked eyes with Drew. “Was it bad?” He’d be a little more blunt about what the camera-wielding devils were like today.
“It was worth it,” he replied.
“That’s not a fucking answer.”
Sensing my agitation, B stood. “How much did you give them?”
Trent shook his head once. “Not much. A kiss, some hand holding. I told them where to be today and what time. They were there. We performed, then got in the car and sped home.”
“Why the fuck did you show up?” B asked. “You could have blown them off.”
“Because next time it wouldn’t have worked. They would have just come at Rimmel harder.”
“What else happened?” I asked, sensing there was more. Rim was followed a lot. The press was already outright brutal, so if Trent was worried they were about to get worse, there was a reason.
He scrubbed a hand over his face.
“I got a call,” Drew said. “I was offered a lot of money to spill some family secrets.”
My body stilled. “What?” I
growled.
“They mostly wanted dirt on you and Rim. They asked about Rim’s past, her miscarriage…” Drew went on.
The edges of my vision started to go a little dark. Rage was like a black cloud, rolling in with a massive storm, threatening to consume me.
They had no right. No right to Rimmel and her private pain.
“Obviously we told them to go fuck themselves.” Trent spoke up. Maybe he sensed I was about to blow. “No amount of money would make us turn on family.”
“Christ.” I fumed and dropped back into the seat. I drained about half my beer in one swallow, then finished the rest.
“How much?” B asked.
Drew hesitated, then replied. “Two million.”
I shot up again. Two million dollars! That wasn’t just a bribe for family secrets. That was a goddamn bounty.
They put a bounty on my wife.
Hells no.
“Not long after the call, the newest divorce headline was up, and the wolves were camped out when I pulled up to escort her out of work.” Trent went on. “I figured they might be extra vicious if any of them knew how much any kind of dirt was worth, so I shooed them the fuck out.”
“I’m surprised they went,” I muttered. Trent and Drew were a good front page story, but pics of two dudes kissing weren’t worth two mil.
“Some of them needed a little extra convincing,” Trent intoned and cracked his knuckles.
Drew made a sound and drank more beer. I knew by the look on his face he wasn’t happy. Trent basically inserted himself between my wife and the press. He’d been through a lot, and the last thing he needed was to get into a fight with a pack of money-hungry assholes and take them on by himself.
Even knowing all that, I couldn’t feel sorry.
I pushed out of the chair, stepped up to Trent, and stuck out my hand. He glanced between me and my palm. A heartbeat went by before he stood, placing his palm in mine.
“Thank you,” I said, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry you had to do it, but I’m grateful. Rim just… She’s…” I hesitated to call her fragile, even though, to me, she was.
She’d hate it. And really, she wasn’t weak. Rimmel was the strongest woman I knew. Maybe that’s why she was fragile in my eyes. I know. It was a complete juxtaposition. Sometimes Rimmel was too strong; she was so strong it made me fear she might shatter at any moment. Especially if she was hit in just the right spot.
#Bae (The Hashtag Series Book 8) Page 7