All the Broken Pieces: (Broken Series Book 3)

by Anna Paige

  His girl.

  That was me.

  “So,” I prompted. “Were you just calling to check in or…?”

  Kade nodded. “Yeah. Brant told me you were leaving today and I wanted to remind you about us all partying together this summer. I mean it. You two bring your asses back when we’re in town so we can hang out. Bring Clay and Spencer. And their families. I want to meet the women brave enough to take those two on.”

  Brant laughed beside me, nodding. “Oh, they have their hands full, but Ali and Talia don’t take any shit off those guys either. It’s hilarious to witness. You’ll see.”

  “Damn right, I will. Looking forward to it.” Kade returned his attention to me and pushed away from Kane and Lennox, not caring that they were bitching about being left out. “Guess I’ll be seeing you next summer, if not before. You take care of yourself, pretty lady. Both of you know you can call if you need me. For anything. At any time.”

  “Thanks, Kade. For everything.” I was tearing up. Dammit. So embarrassing.

  Brant pulled me to his side and kissed the top of my head as he thanked his friend.

  Kade watched us with a thoughtful smile. “You guys look good together.”

  “She’d look even better with me!” Lennox shouted from somewhere behind Kade.

  He turned and flashed that famous intimidating stare, his voice dropping an octave or two in irritation. “Would you shut the fuck up, Lennox? You and my dumbass brother are getting on my nerves.” He turned back to the camera. “Brant, dude, please hurry up and get that other bus done before I strap all these motherfuckers to the hood of this one like a bunch of dead deer.”

  “I will,” Brant laughed as Kade dodged a piece of flying projectile launched by one of the other guys. “Just be patient.”

  He leveled a stoic look into the camera. “Bro, I seriously feel a felony coming on.”

  “Not to change the subject, but that would make a great song title,” I chuckled.

  Those steely gray eyes flashed to me and he blinked. “Holy shit. You’re right.” He considered a moment. “I can practically hear the chord progressions in my head.” His eyes took on a far off look for a minute before he smiled. “Yep. You got my mind rolling now. I’ve gotta go but don’t hesitate to call if you need me, and I’ll see you both soon.”

  We’d barely muttered our goodbyes before he was gone.

  I guess when the muse starts knocking, you answer the door. Fast.

  Brant turned to me and kissed me quickly on the lips, pulling back to watch me with a smile. “I bet that one goes platinum someday and they’ll have you to thank.” He kissed me again, deeper this time, before returning his eyes to mine. “I saw what you left on his bed, by the way.”

  I had to smile. “I thought he needed a personal touch in there.”

  He chuckled. “A big, intimidating rock star with a stuffed bear on his bed? I hate that I won’t be here to see the expression on his face.”

  I thumped his arm playfully. “This place needed something personal. Besides, he’s going to love it. It’s a guard bear, remember? He’ll keep the crazy stalker fans off Kade’s silk sheets while he’s out of town.”

  “The locks already do a good job of that, gorgeous, but I’m sure he’ll love the extra security detail. It’s always good to have a man on the inside.” He pressed his erection into my belly, his eyes hooded with desire. “Speaking of inside…” Just like that, his mouth was on mine, hot and demanding. His hands held my waist, pulling me tight against his body. By the time he finished, I was mewling like a cat.

  Damn it, I really wanted to ruin the nice clean sheets we’d put on the bed this morning but we had to leave soon if we were going to make it to his parent’s place on time.

  “So, did you mean what you told them a minute ago? You’re all mine?” He smirked, thumbs caressing the skin just above my waist.

  “Looks that way. You okay with that?”

  He dropped his forehead to mine, kissing the tip of my nose. “I’m so much more than okay.” He pulled back and searched my eyes. “I’m so in love with you, I can barely see straight.”

  I reached up and cupped his face with my hands, thrilling at the dark stubble along his jaw. I loved the way it looked and it felt even better on my thighs, my belly, my breasts. Shit, I was getting entirely too turned on. “You better figure out how to see straight, Weirdo. You’re about to drive us three hours to your parent’s house.”

  “Maybe we can stop off if we find a nice remote spot with a good view?” His expression was an even mix of hope and desire.

  “Absolutely. I’ve been dying to see how that cobra imprint would look on your back.”

  He dropped his head to his chest and breathed in deeply. “Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly love you any more…”

  •••

  We didn’t even make it out of the driveway before he declared the view to be gorgeous and made his move.

  The cobra looked spectacular on his back.

  And even better on my chest after he bent me over the console and took me from behind.

  God, I loved his truck.

  •••

  “So, do your parents still live in the same house where you grew up?” I was getting nervous, shifting in my seat and checking the mirror every five minutes to make sure my crazy wasn’t showing through.

  “Yep. They refuse to move. I’ve offered to build them whatever they wanted, wherever they wanted, but they just brushed it off.” He smiled. “They’ve been in that house for thirty five years and I don’t think you could blast them out of there with dynamite. They’re dug in like two stubborn-ass ticks.”

  “Don’t pretend to be annoyed. I see you grinning. You like that house just as much as they do, don’t you?”

  “Maybe,” he smirked.

  We pulled onto a narrow residential street lined with brick ranch-style houses. Most had Christmas decorations out already, inflatables lying flat on the ground just waiting for sundown to be turned on. Strings of unlit lights encompassed fences, trees, rooftops, and flowerbeds. I found myself searching for them as we slowly rolled down the street, anything to distract me from the butterflies in my stomach.

  Brant slowed to a crawl and turned onto a wide concrete driveway. There were two vehicles parked there, a small truck and an SUV. The yard was immaculate and the flower beds were well-kept. It wasn’t the same caliber as Teach’s garden but it was beautiful. There were icicle lights hanging from the roof and it appeared that the entire house was outlined with thin white string lights. Bright red bows hung in each window and there was a gorgeous red and silver wreath on the front door.

  The door swung open as soon as Brant had the truck in park. Brant’s mom burst through it and tore down the steps like a racehorse coming out of the gate.

  Ready or not… here we go.

  His feet were barely on the ground before she practically leapt into his arms, talking a mile a minute into his neck as he squeezed her thin frame. His voice was strained like she was squishing the air out of him.

  It made me smile.

  I refused to acknowledge the little twinge of jealousy that gnawed at my gut watching them.

  Seriously, she was not letting go.

  Just then, she looked over his shoulder and spotted me, her chatter ceasing and her mouth curling into a wide smile. “Hi, sweetie! Come on out of that truck. You’re next.” She announced happily, letting go long enough to motion me toward my door.

  I couldn’t help my smile as I exited the truck and made my way around the front toward them.

  Brant’s mom was tiny, with long medium brown hair that fell in loose waves down her back and the same royal blue eyes as her son. They twinkled when she was happy too, just like his did. And boy, were they glittering now.

  She reluctantly let go of her son when he reached a hand out and pulled me to his side. “Mom, this is Lauren Caldwell. Lauren, this is my mom, Jennie.”

  I held out a hand. “It’s so nice to
meet you.”

  She brushed right past my extended hand and pulled me into a tight, bear hug. “I’m so glad you’re here, honey. It’s such a pleasure to meet you.” She smelled like vanilla and warm toasted coconut. I was fighting tears when I realized why. She’d been baking my cake. Shit, the blinking wasn’t working. Tears welled in my eyes and I held onto her a little tighter, partially to buy myself time to stop crying and partially because her hugs were just that good.

  I had to stop crying like this.

  What would all my haters back in Denson think?

  Hard to uphold your reputation as a raging bitch when every little thing made you cry.

  Brant smiled at me over her shoulder, holding our bags in his hands. “She’s a hugger, in case you hadn’t noticed. Probably should have warned you.”

  Jennie let go, leaning back to smooth my hair before scowling at Brant. “You shush. Everybody appreciates a good hug now and then.” She took my hand and tugged me toward the house, leaving her son to bring in the luggage as she dropped her voice, speaking only to me. “He loves my hugs. Used to hang on me like a little monkey when he was a boy. Don’t let him fool you.”

  “Whatever she’s whispering about up there, don’t believe her. I was holding that stuff for a friend,” Brant called as we reached the porch.

  “I was just offering to show her those adorable potty-training pictures I keep in the scrapbook.” She called to him, winking at me as she held the door. I stepped inside and turned to wait for Brant, who was grousing as he trudged up the steps.

  “Maybe we should stay at a hotel,” he pondered, cutting his eyes at her.

  She held the door for him, mock-glaring. “Brant Matthews, shut up and get in the house before I cram my good slipper in your ass.”

  I glanced down to see that she was indeed wearing fuzzy slippers with her leggings and long sweater.

  Most adorable woman ever.

  And she threatened to put her foot in Brant’s ass, which added bonus points.

  An hour later, I was in the kitchen with Jennie, helping with the food prep for the next day. I’d been peeling sweet potatoes for a good thirty minutes—comfortably chatting with her as she cooked—when she came over and put a cup of steaming cocoa in front of me, taking the bag of mini-marshmallows meant for the sweet potato soufflé and dropping a handful into my mug. She didn’t say a word, just smiled and went back to the stove to stir one of the numerous pots.

  Brant was out front testing lights after Jennie told him one of the strings was ‘blinking its ass off against all odds’ and she couldn’t get it to stop. His dad was due home any time and that familiar feeling of apprehension was slowly creeping into my stomach. I sipped the cocoa absently, marveling at how rich and delicious it was. “This is really good, Mrs. Matthews. Thank you.”

  “I make it with cream instead of milk, makes it so much better.” She confided. “And stop with that Mrs. Matthews stuff. I’m Jennie, got it?”

  I nodded, reaching for another sweet potato. “So, will there be a lot of guests at dinner tomorrow?”

  “No. Just us four.”

  I stared at the numerous pots and slow-cookers, the matching pie plates full of homemade crusts ready for filling, the enormous pans of yeast rolls rising on the counter, and I felt my mouth drop open. “You’re kidding.”

  She wiped her hands on a dish towel, tossing it onto her shoulder and turning to the refrigerator for more ingredients. “Not at all. I always make a ton of food. The majority of the leftovers get portioned into meals and frozen so I can send them home with Brant.” She peered at me over the open fridge door, one brow rising. “He can’t live on his own cooking. He’d wither away to nothing.”

  I wasn’t about to argue, though I’d personally seen Brant cook amazing meals on many occasions. We even cooked together a lot at Kade’s. His mom either didn’t know he could cook or had decided her cooking was better. I tended to think it was the former. She was making sure he was well fed and he was letting her believe he needed her because she clearly loved to do it. It was her way of mothering him even from hundreds of miles away.

  Hugging her suddenly sounded like a really good idea and before I knew what I was doing, I was up and across the room, hugging a clearly surprised Jennie and making a total fool of myself. I got myself together and pulled back, laughing nervously. “Sorry. I’m not sure where that came from. I was just sitting there thinking what a great mom you are and next thing I knew…”

  She waved me off. “Don’t apologize. This is a hugging household. You’ll fit right in.” She dropped a bag of celery onto the counter as I retook my seat. Without turning back to me, she said, “I don’t know if I’m a great mom, but I try.”

  “That’s all it takes. You want to be, which means you already are. Brant is lucky to have you.” I chuckled. “Hell, if I weren’t nearing thirty years old, I’d ask you to adopt me.”

  She laughed softly, still working. “I’d be honored. Always wanted a little girl, a baby sister for Brant but that wasn’t to be, I guess. You’d be a great daughter, I can already tell. Only problem is, I think Brant might object to suddenly being related to his girlfriend.”

  We were both laughing about that when Brant stepped into the kitchen, pulling off his jacket and hanging it onto the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” we both said, causing us to burst out laughing again.

  He just shook his head, pulling a beer from the fridge. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But you two better not be plotting against me. I’m outnumbered until Dad gets home.” He headed for the door.

  “Hey, wait. Where you off to? Can’t you help cook?” I smirked.

  “Pfft. I’m clueless in a kitchen. Everybody knows that.” He winked at me conspiratorially. “Besides, I have a few calls to make so I thought I’d leave you two hyenas to your inside jokes.”

  “Aww… someone doesn’t like being left out.” Jennie crooned in a baby-talk voice, taunting him. “Want mommy to let you lick the spoon?”

  He glanced from her to me, shaking his head. “God’s sake, woman. I’m thirty two years old. Dad needs to hurry his ass up.” With that, he left the room to the sound of our laughter.

  •••

  Meeting Brant’s dad was like looking into the future. He had the same dark hair, broad shoulders, bright eyes, and thoughtful expression as his son. His hair was peppered with gray at the temples and there were a few laugh lines adding character to his face, but otherwise they looked startlingly similar.

  William Matthews was also just as awkward as his son, much to my delight. He sort of faltered when we met, stepping in for a hug but also holding out a hand for a handshake, shifting back and forth for a moment in indecision before Jennie shoved him at me with an eye roll.

  “Oh, for hell’s sake, Will. Hug the girl before she thinks you’ve escaped the asylum or something.”

  He gave me a quick hug and shy smile. “Sorry. I’m not used to this, so forgive me if I stumble through it at first.”

  “Not used to what? Meeting new people?”

  He frowned, glancing at Brant who was still on the phone in the dining room. “No. Brant bringing girls home. He hasn’t done that since…”

  “It’s been a while.” Jennie cut in, bailing her husband out with a pointed look.

  “You mean since Zoey, don’t you?” I asked quietly.

  They both looked at me, wide-eyed.

  “He told you about her?” Jennie whispered.

  I nodded. “He did. We’ve been friends for a while now, told each other everything. The other part, being more than friends, is more recent.”

  Jennie watched me with a soft smile. “I knew it as soon as he told me about you on the phone.”

  I looked at Will, who was also smiling, and back to her. “Knew what?”

  She shrugged, trying to downplay her reaction as Brant stepped into the room and moved to hug his dad. “I was just thinking I may get a daughter after all.”


  •••

  “Are you sure about this?” I whispered, glancing down the hall at the closed bedroom door near the end. Jennie and Will’s door.

  Brant rolled his eyes. “Yes, baby. They know we’re sharing my room.”

  Brant’s parents had turned in over an hour ago, leaving us to finish watching the movie alone.

  “Maybe I should sleep on the couch. I don’t want to be disrespectful.” I worried my bottom lip with my teeth.

  “The only way you’d be disrespectful is if you keep biting your lip like that because it’s going to end up goading me into fucking the living hell out of you against that wall over there.” He pointed to the spot he meant. “Now, get your ass in the bedroom and stop being so self-conscious. Like I said earlier, I’m thirty-two. It’s fairly safe to assume they know I’m not a virgin.” He quirked a brow, giving me a look that suggested I was being silly as he grabbed my wrist and gently tugged me into the room behind him. “And I’m sure they know anyone I love enough to bring here for the holidays has probably shared my bed, in every sense of the word.”

  “Okay,” I relented. “But I’m not putting out.” Even to my own ears, that one sounded weak.

  He closed the door with a soft click and turned to pin me with a heated stare. “I bet I can change your mind about that.”

  I folded my arms over my chest, trying to look unimpressed. “I’m not as easy to sway as you seem to think.”

  The corner of his mouth lifted in a sexy as fuck smirk and my body was already well on its way to betraying me. “So…” he closed the distance between us, his sock feet sliding gracefully on the bare floors as he dropped to his knees and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of my leggings.” If I were to do this…” He slowly tugged the fabric down my legs, leaving it bunched near my calves, basically barring me from stepping away as he leaned in and exhaled his warm breath over my thin panties. “Or maybe this…” He pushed the panties aside and trailed his index finger down my slit, his hot breath still flowing over me like a caress. “Mmm… how about if I lick your sweet pussy like this…?”