I don’t want to get up yet because then I’ll have to face reality, and that’s a place I really don’t want to go right now. At least not till I’m feeling better and have a definite plan of what to do next.
Devon’s been calling me nonstop for the last week, really insistently, till all calls stopped yesterday. Not even one. I feel a little hurt that he’d just give up that easily, but I have no room to complain, since I had answered not one of his calls and the guy’s probably sick to death of hearing my voicemail.
“Rebecca Joan Slade, open this goddamned door before I kick it in!”
Logan? I jump out of bed and race to the door, swallowing through the dizziness as I throw it open to see my big-ass, badass soldier of a brother standing there, his face one big thundercloud.
“You look like shit,” he mutters, pushing his way in and scrunching his nose at the cartons of old Chinese takeout and empty whipped cream cans.
“Thanks. Don’t hold back with the compliments. God knows I could use it right now,” I say sardonically, banging the door shut and walking into the kitchen.
“Beck—”
“If you’re here to give me shit about what I said at the wedding—”
“No. You were right. I got mad about Dad giving me the cold shoulder and the rest of them not standing up and defending me when I should be pissed with myself about not having the balls to sit down and make him see what I want. That’s on me, not Mama or Grey or you. I just don’t know how to say what I need to without saying something that I can’t take back.” He sighs, shoving his feet onto the coffee table. “This place is a mess.”
“Yeah. I quit my job and just kind of took a few days to sleep.”
And cry and maybe convince myself that things will be okay. I have a lot of money in the bank, thanks to Dad paying some of my expenses, but that’ll stop soon when he hears I have no intention of becoming a lawyer.”
The news shocks him, and I see his eyes widen before a bright smile burst across his face.
“You tell the old man yet?”
“Nope,” I mutter, shoving him over and flopping down beside him. “When I’m ready.”
“He’s gonna shit a brick when you tell him daddy’s little princess isn’t following his map,” he laughs, pulling me close and scrubbing at my hair.
“Stop that, you ogre.”
“Nope. I missed you, and I wanna torture you a little.”
I snort and pinch his side, digging my elbow in for good measure.
“Coulda fooled me, asshole.”
“What’s going on, Beck?” he asks, suddenly serious. “Grey called and told me to get you to answer your phone. Who are you avoiding?”
And just like that I have my big brother and best friend back. I start crying and blubbering all over him, and he takes it, wrapping his big strong arms around me to pull me close and smell my hair.
It feels so good I cry harder, clinging to his chest and telling him everything. Everything. By the time I’m done, I feel better and he looks ready to tangle with a rabid bull, and I laugh because now I know I have my brother back.
“I should probably kill him, or rip his dick off. Or rip his dick off and then watch him bleed to death,” he says darkly, making me giggle.
“No, this isn’t just his fault. I did this too; I just didn’t want to admit to myself that I messed things up because I was afraid to look like an ass. If anyone’s to blame here, it’s me. I should have told him how I felt instead of leading him on.”
But then he would never have touched me, and I wouldn’t have ever felt his passion and gotten to hold him the way he’d let me. So yeah, while I’m pissed at him, I have to be woman enough to take some of the heat.
“You should answer your phone.”
“Yeah. I was going to yesterday, but he stopped calling me.”
Figures.
He rolls his eyes and looks down at my belly—which hasn’t been flat since I rolled out of Mama—and grins.
“You got my first niece or nephew in there, scampers?” he asks softly, and I swear I see moisture in his eyes.
“Oh, go get a tampon, you big old baby,” I grump, slapping his hand away playfully. “You can touch him when you tell me what’s going on with you. And no holding back, asshole. I want it all.”
He tells me about loving his job and hating that Mama and Dad don’t support him in it. He tells me about a woman he fell in love with but caught in bed with one of his buddies. He tells me how he found out she was pregnant the day after she aborted his kid, and then he tells me that his heart is broken and he doesn’t know how to fix it.
I cry, because I want to help him but I don’t know how. I can’t even fix my own shit, and it’s not even half as big as his. But I know that I can be there for him and love him, and I tell him so.
“Okay, that’s enough crying for now. Go shower, because you stink, and I’ll try and clean this dump.”
I go, because he’s right, and feel better since I had that talk with him at the wedding. Nothing like family to get you straight.
When I come out of the room, ready to give him shit after his crying jag, I stop dead in my tracks and zip my lips. But not before something slips out.
“Oh, zucchini.”
Five pairs of male eyes are staring at me, three that I’ve never seen before. One that I will deal with later, for opening the door, and another whose ass I will kick as soon as I can convince my limbs to start functioning again.
“You’re right, Dev old man, she really is a fox!” one of the younger ones yells, jumping up and coming my way with a mischievous grin before grabbing me off my feet and laying a doozy of a kiss right on my half-open mouth. “Nice arse, sweetheart.”
“Oy, get your filthy hands off my woman, you wanker.”
That’s Devon I hear growling like a bear, but I can’t pay him a scrap of attention when the bear currently holding me grabs my ass and gives it a firm squeeze.
“Please tell me all you Yank females are built this perfectly, or I think I’ll steal you before the bloke can get his greedy paws on you,” he begs, winking at me.
I feel a strong pair of arms wrap around me from behind before the kid gets a foot in the chest that sends him flying. He catches himself before he falls, and laughs, flipping Devon the bird and making kissy noises with his mouth.
“Fuck off, Davy boy, or you’ll have nothing to ruin the girls with when I’m done with you,” he growls, pointing a finger at the others in warning.
“Now then, imp, meet Garret, David, and Ryan, our brothers. Lads, say hello to imp.”
“Yeah, hi, nice rack.”
“Bloody brilliant eyes. They gold?”
“I already told you you have a nice bum.”
I’m giggling by the time they’re done, and even Logan cracks a smile.
“Why don’t we leave these two to talk? There’s a burger joint around the corner that makes a mean chili fry.”
Logan rounds them up and has them out the door before I can move.
“Traitor!”
“Yeah, yeah, thank me later. You hurt my sister and I’ll end your miserable existence, asshole. You got me?” he barks, narrowing his eyes.
“Clearly. Get the fuck out then, unless you want to see me kiss her.”
He slams out, and I grin, till I remember that my back is pinned to Devon’s chest and we’re alone.
“If I put you down are you going to hit me, imp?”
I snort and consider it before shaking my head and getting as much space between us as humanly possible. I can’t be that close to him without feeling things, and I really don’t need to feel these things. Not now, when I’ve just gotten stuff sorted out.
“I came to beg you… You’re pregnant with my baby, yes?” he asks, and I swallow, nodding when his gray eyes light up and he grins.
He gets so excited, and I flinch when he stalks closer and grabs my hands, bending at the waist to look down into my eyes.
“I’m so glad, and…and
I wanted you to know that I am so happy—”
“Dev—”
“No, please, let me speak. For the longest time I haven’t allowed myself to love anyone but my brothers and the few friends I have. I’d convinced myself, after I was left at the altar—but that’s another story. Anyway, I’d convinced myself that loving people was weakness and that I had no room in my life and heart for anyone else.”
He pauses, and I feel myself freeze.
“And then you came along, and I couldn’t keep my hands off you. You’re so fucking beautiful and smart and funny, and you rocked my world that morning in bed. It scared me to death when I heard you singing in the shower and I got this happy feeling…it felt so close to contentment that I could hardly breathe for the terror I felt. So I ran away and convinced myself it was the right thing to do.”
“Devon, I need—”
“When you called it was like lifting a curtain of misery I didn’t even know I was under. For the first time in six years I felt like maybe I stood a chance at the happiness I’d written off, like I could possibly have everything I always wanted but wouldn’t let myself have.”
He takes a deep breath and grins, making my stomach dip and quiver with butterflies.
“I sold some of my interests abroad and made some changes. The lads and I have bought a house here in Georgia, close to your parents but far enough away that we won’t have to worry about them turning up at all hours, and we’ve started decorating the nursery, and I even kitted out this little hobby room for you where you can knit and crotchet and do all those artsy things you enjoy doing.”
“Dev.”
He’s so excited about everything—a house, and he’s moved here! —that I feel dread unfurl deep within me when he drops down to his knees and takes my hands, looking up at me with so much affection and hope my heart aches.
“I can love you, imp. I want to love you. I want to make love to you every night and watch you swell with our baby, and…and I want you to learn to love me back. I’m asking you, imploring you, to be a part of my family, brothers and all,” he whispers, kissing my hand with a smack of his lips.
“Will you please marry me, Rebecca Slade? I promise you I will do everything in my power to deserve you.”
I’m so shocked I don’t feel the tears pouring down my face. I don’t hear or see anything but his bright and hopeful face, till the door opens and Dillon walks in.
“What the heck? What’s going on here, Becky?”
Devon stands and scowls at him, his mouth thinning when he sees the key in Travis’s hand and the bunch of roses.
“Who the fuck are you then?” he snarls, and I feel my vision blur when Dillon grins and points to my finger.
“Her fiancé.”
Chapter Fourteen
The air is thick around us, filled with emotions that I’m struggling to assimilate as Dillon strolls into the room and smiles down at me, his eyes sparkling with an emotion I’m pretty darned sure is glee.
I feel Devon stiffen and I cringe, peeking up at him through my lashes when Dill wraps an arm around my waist and lays a fat, smacking kiss on me, his eyes so mischievous I want to bite his freaking lips and slap him upside the head.
No, Dill and I will never be an epic love story. We’re just not passionate enough about each other to be anything but really good friends and maybe a tepid marriage of convenience that sees us sharing laughter but not much chemistry.
I know this to my soul because I’ve come to accept that the only man who can make me burn is standing in front of me glaring at Dillon so violently I can almost see him pummelling him into the ground and then pissing on the left over bloody pulp.
But here’s the thing; I spent two months feeling like hell because I unconsciously went and fell for a guy I knew wasn’t even on the market. Those two months had been nights of crying into my pillow, crying in front of the TV while I watched an ad for Grooper’s super spicy mustard and basically anytime I couldn’t force myself to forget him.
When I wasn’t crying I was at work-okay so I cried there too sometimes - and then one day Dillon had spotted me at the supermarket and I hadn’t been alone. He listened to me whine about my stupidity and picked me up, dusted me off and forced me to start dating him.
Dillon and I are good together. Most days. He likes men and women, basically anything that he takes a liking to and never fails to make me laugh.
No, we’re no Romeo and Juliette but he makes me feel like I’m not some forgettable lump that no one wants and I like feeling that way. We’re friends and chances are we always will be so when he’d asked me to marry him to kill two birds with one stone-I get to be a married baby mama and he can finally get his father off his back with me as a semi-beard-I’d agreed.
We’d made a deal. He’d be my husband and take care of me and the kids, plural because he wants some of his own, and I’d be a buffer between him and his homophobic father.
Seems good enough. I’ve gone years without mind-blowing sex, I’m sure I won’t die if I never come again. So yeah, I’d said yeah, why not and I’m planning to tell my parents next week so that the news of my pregnancy won’t shock the heck out of them.
Although I don’t know who I’m kidding since my dad is probably gonna disown me when he finds out I quit law school and my job.
And now…there must be someone up their laughing their asses off at me because just when I thought I have a handle on things in walks Devon freaking Baxter and I’m right back to square one.
Screwed.
Because I know from that intense look on his face that I’m not going to marry Dill now. Devon won’t let me.
“I would suggest you get your hands and lips off my woman.”
Dillon grins before turning to Devon and scowling. I didn’t even know the guy was capable of anything but carefree mischief.
“Eh, I think you got your wires or something seriously crossed my man. Becky is my girl and we’re getting married. See? I even put this rock on her finger to prove it.” He purrs, kissing said rock and licking at my finger with a lazy smile.
The move makes me shiver, not in a good way but Devon interprets it differently and the next thing I know Dillon is smashed up against the wall and dangling from Devon’s fists.
He’s furious, like Hulk raging mad and I swear he’s going to kill him.
“Stop it!”
“No. I fucking warned you to get your hands off my woman.” He snarls and I shudder when Dillon grins and holds his hands up in surrender.
“Hey man, I told ya already. We’re engaged. I asked, she said yes and I got a rock on her. Your loss if you didn’t take your chance when you had it.”
Now he’s just got a death wish, I think, huffing out a sigh and grabbing at Devon’s arm. He’s built like a freaking line backer, a really hot English one whose ass I could probably bounce-
Focus Becky! Get the violent hunk off your fiancé and get a grip.
“Devon? Please stop trying to slam him through the wall and let him down.” I saycalmly, curling a hand around one of his fists.
He breathes out harshly and turns his eyes on me, his face so savage I gulp and blink to make sure I’ve seen right.
“He doesn’t bloody touch you.” He snarls, giving him another shake for good measure. “Clear?”
I nod once and narrow my eyes at Dillon, letting him know that his little display is not welcome right now. Later maybe but now, not after that…God, that speech was so freaking sweet and I’m still adrift in the moment.
“Fine, fine, just put me down already, your manly heroics are turning me on.”
Christ, really, he wants to mess around right now?
“Shut up Dill, before he breaks your arms. Devon, let him down. Please.”
The door bursts open and three blondes come barrelling in followed by the golden haired Logan. They all screech to a halt and watch as he slowly lowers Dill, the muscles in his upper arms bulging beneath the short sleeves of his light blue polo shirt.
“Oh shut up! Would all of you just calm down and do something?” I yell, losing my temper.
“Who is he?” Logan asks suspiciously and I roll my eyes, knowing no help will come from that quarter.
Despite his broken heart Lo is a total romantic and since he’s looking at Devon like he’s the next coming or something I don’t think he’s about to help me out.
The other three clowns are grinning and egging their brother on, laying freaking bets for cripes sake! They remind me of my own brothers and I feel a grin pull at my lips till Logan whips out a hundred and gets in with the action.
“Oh for God sakes! Dillon is my-”
“Say it and I will put him through this fucking wall imp.”
“Friend.” I go with the safe option since the look on Devon’s face tells me how very little he’s fucking around right now.
“A little more than that.” Dillon protests, wincing when Devon shoves him back into the wall. “Alright, alright! Becky, do something.”
“Well, this is decidedly awkward but I quite enjoy it. Indeed I do. Are you still going to beat his face in old man? I have a hundred on you and I’m aiming to win. Any popcorn imp?”
That’s David.
“Don’t be a bloody animal Davy lad!” Garret mutters, punching his shoulder. “You eat popcorn at the cinema, wanker. Got any Lager for this imp?”
What!
“Shut up both of you and stop egging him on. Devon, put him down. Now. Garret, you and the terrible two go sit on the sofa and Logan, I swear to God if you go on laughing and don’t help me I will skin you.” I hiss, stomping my foot impatiently.
“Now imp, don’t stomp my seed loose from its perch. In your womb. Where I planted it. Please.” Devon growls, giving Dillon one last shove before walking my way and pulling me to the sofa, the one not occupied by three, nosy idiots who make me want to smile.
I end up squashed into Devon’s side, one of his arms anchoring me close which no amount of struggling can change so I give up with a snort and stick my nose in the air. Logan follows and takes the chair, his eyes twinkling when Dillon huffs and flops down on the beanbag left over from college.
Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1) Page 76