by April Wilson
* * *
The rest of my week passes without incident. I get back on a normal schedule, back to work, and there are no more signs of Luciana’s interference. And fortunately, I haven’t received any more mysterious text messages or photos on my phone. Still, it’s hard not to notice the extra security in the store. I notice several plain-clothed security guards I’ve never seen before, and both Mack and Sam seem on high alert.
Tyler calls me Friday morning at work, providing a very welcome distraction.
“Hey there!” I say, eagerly accepting his call.
“Hey, sis,” he says.
He must be at the police station, because I can hear lots of people talking in the background.
“I realize it’s short notice,” he says, “but I was wondering if you’re free this evening. I thought we could drive out to Mom’s for dinner. I’ve already talked to her, and she’s free this evening.”
My mom lives about forty-five minutes west of Chicago in the suburb of Naperville. She usually takes the train in to the city a couple times a month so we can have lunch and spend the afternoon together. I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, though, so we’re long overdue for a visit. And it’s always a treat when Tyler and I drive out to her place to spend some quality family time together, just the three of us. With Tyler’s busy work schedule, that doesn’t happen very often.
“I’d love to, Tyler,” I say.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at the bookstore at three o’clock. How does that sound?”
“Perfect.”
* * *
At a quarter ‘til three, I turn off my computer and head downstairs to the first floor, Sam right on my heels.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Sam says, shadowing me as I wait for my brother to arrive.
“Sam, relax. I’ll be fine. You can take off early. Go have fun.”
Tyler’s black pick-up truck pulls to a stop in the VIP spot right in front of Clancy’s, and Tyler hops out and heads inside. He must have stopped at his condo to change out of his dark suit and tie in favor of well-worn blue jeans, a navy-colored button-down shirt, and sneakers.
“Damn,” Sam mutters in my ear, his hands gripping my shoulders. “Your brother is freaking gorgeous.”
I laugh, patting Sam’s hand. I’m used to women fawning over my brother, but this is the first time I’ve seen a man do it.
“Are you sure he’s your brother?” Sam says. “You two look nothing alike.”
I laugh some more. It’s true. I get my blond hair and fair complexion from my Swedish mother, and Tyler takes after our father, who had a beautiful mocha complexion, dark hair, and dark eyes. The only physical trait Tyler and I share is the blue-green color of our eyes. “We have the same color eyes.”
Tyler comes through the front doors, spotting me immediately. As he reaches me, he puts his arm across my shoulders and draws me to his side.
“Hi, Sam,” Tyler says, offering his hand for a shake. “How’s it going?”
“Fine, man.” Sam gives me a sly wink. “So, can I trust you with my charge?”
Tyler laughs. “Don’t worry, pal, I’ll bring her home tonight in one piece.”
“You’d better, or Shane will have both our heads.”
* * *
As we leave the city limits, heading west, I’m excited to see my mom. She moved out of the city a few years ago when she retired from teaching. Now she lives in an adorable little two-bedroom cottage near a lake.
“How’s work?” I say, twisting in my seat to face my big brother.
“Busy, as usual,” he says. “I wrapped up a long-running murder investigation this morning, so I thought this evening would be a good time to get away for a few hours and spend some time with my favorite girls.”
My brother works long hours as a homicide detective. Police work is another thing he has in common with our late father. Dad was a patrol officer when he was killed on duty, when I was just an infant. I never knew our dad, but Tyler was eighteen years older me when Dad died. He and our father had a very close relationship. I wish I’d known him too.
“How’s everything at home?” he says, as he merges onto the highway.
“Great.” I feel a pang of guilt because I haven’t told Tyler about Luciana and the images on my phone. Tyler tends to be unfairly critical of Shane, so I really don’t want to open up that can of worms. The two of them are so much alike, both so protective of me. Tyler’s still having a hard time not being the one primarily responsible for my well being. My brother doesn’t like to share any more than Shane does.
Tyler gives me a telling look. “Anything you want to tell me about?”
And that’s when I realize he already knows. He knows about Luciana, and about the images. “Who told you?” I say.
“Shane did,” he says, sounding begrudgingly impressed. “He called me two days ago to fill me in. I was hoping you’d tell me yourself.”
“It wasn’t Shane in those pictures,” I say, feeling defensive on Shane’s behalf. “At least not in the ones that mattered. Yes, it was Shane in the first two images, but she walked up to him and kissed him without warning. He can’t help that.”
Tyler’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his eyes on the road. “Are you okay?” he says. “That’s what I want to know.”
“I’m fine. Yes, I was a little freaked out about it in the beginning, but I realized Shane wouldn’t betray me like that.”
“I’ve met Luciana Morelli before,” he tells me.
When my eyes widen and I stare in surprise, he hastily adds, “On official business, not personally. Her business partner was a suspect in an investigation I was involved in a few years ago. Luciana struck me as cold and calculating. You need to steer clear of her. And don’t underestimate her.”
“I won’t. That woman gives me the chills.”
* * *
The instant we step inside Mom’s house, we’re greeted by the delicious aroma of a roasting chicken and stuffing. My mom’s a fantastic cook, and I miss her home cooking. Cooper’s a great cook, too, but no one can compare to my Mom.
She comes out of the kitchen drying her hands on a red hand towel, a beaming smile on her face. She hugs me first, then Tyler.
“My two most favorite people in the world,” she says, beaming with pleasure. “Come into the kitchen and talk to me while I finish up dinner. Everything’s almost ready.”
She’s gone all out this evening, serving a roasted chicken with stuffing and gravy, roasted sweet potatoes, and homemade biscuits with fresh butter and strawberry preserves. All my childhood favorites.
“This looks wonderful, Mom,” I say, as we sit at the table. I take a bite of my biscuit and moan with pleasure.
We dig in to a perfect meal, the three of us chatting about everything and nothing, as if we did this every evening. It feels good to be home again, just the three of us, reminding me of when I used to live at home with Mom, when Tyler would stop by for a weekly visit.
“So, how’s the wedding planning coming along?” Mom says. “Have you decided anything?”
“Yes! We’re going to have a small, private ceremony,” I tell them. “As soon as Shane’s parents arrive home from Italy, we’re getting married at the Kenilworth estate, just family and close friends. We should know the exact date soon. You’re both invited to come spend the weekend at the house in Kenilworth.”
“That sounds perfect,” Mom says, rising from the table to pull an apple pie out of the oven. She sets it on a cooling rack. “I much prefer small, intimate groups to big crowds.”
“Cooper’s going to officiate,” I say. “He applied for an ordained minister license so he can preside over the wedding.” Then I look at my brother. “And you’re still giving me away, right?”
Tyler nods. “You bet I am. I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”
Mom’s pale blue eyes tear up. “Oh, honey, how I wish your father were here. He would have loved seeing his baby girl get married.”
&nb
sp; * * *
After dinner, Mom serves us warm apple pie with vanilla ice cream, and we eat our dessert out on her small, glassed-in porch, overlooking the lake at sunset.
When it’s dark, we go back inside and Mom shows me the dress she’s bought for the wedding. It’s a lovely, long pale blue dress that matches her eyes perfectly. Our wedding is just around the corner now, but it still doesn’t feel real to me. The preparations are all made, and there’s nothing left for me to do except wait for the day to arrive.
After lots of hugs and kisses, Tyler and I say good-bye to Mom and head back to the city. An hour later, we pull into the parking lot of my apartment building, and Tyler walks me inside the lobby.
Shane’s standing by the front desk, chatting with the two security guards on duty. When he sees me, he smiles. Those bright blue eyes are enough to make me swoon.
Shane snags me with one arm, pulling me close, as he shakes hands with my brother. “Tyler.”
Tyler nods. “Shane.”
It’s not the warmest of receptions between my brother and my soon-to-be husband, but it’s definitely an improvement over their past interactions. At least this time, no one’s getting punched or arrested. I think we’re definitely making progress on that front.
Tyler hugs me goodbye, then heads to his truck.
Once we’re ensconced in our private elevator, Shane presses me against one of the mirrored walls, caging me in with his hands, and kisses me until I’m breathless.
“Did you have a good time?” he asks.
“Yes.” I lay my hand over my belly. “I ate way too much. I must have gained ten pounds tonight.”
Shane smiles. “Good. You needed it.”
“What did you do tonight for dinner?”
“The guys and I went with Cooper to Rowdie’s for hot wings and basketball.”
By guys, he means his three brothers.
Shane kisses the tip of my nose. “I missed you.”
I can feel his erection nudging my belly, and I laugh. “I can see that.”
I’ve got a plastic food container in my hand, and I hold it up to him as an offering. “Mom sent me home with a slice of apple pie for you. I think it’s still slightly warm.”
He takes the container from me, cracks open the lid, and inhales the tempting scents of apple, cinnamon, and sugar. “I always did like your mom.”
Chapter 25
When we step out of the elevator, I’m assailed with more mouth-watering aromas. Cooper is baking. The man sure loves his kitchen.
Shane excuses himself to take a work call, and I head into the kitchen to see Cooper.
“What are you making?” I ask him, peeking into the oven.
“Banana bread. I just put it in. It’ll be a while before it’s ready to eat. You can have some for breakfast.”
Banana bread is one of my favorites, and Cooper knows that. “Are you trying to fatten me up?”
“It wouldn’t hurt you to eat more. Lately you haven’t been eating enough to keep a bird alive.”
“I ate a ton at Mom’s tonight,” I tell him. “She served all my favorites, including warm apple pie with vanilla ice cream.”
Cooper nods approvingly. “How is Ingrid? I haven’t seen her in a while.”
“She’s fine. She sends her love to you and Shane.”
When I first met Cooper, I had secret hopes that he and my mom might hit it off. My mom’s never really dated anyone seriously in the years since my dad died, and I want her to have someone in her life. And Cooper – well, he’d already become a surrogate dad to me, so it made perfect sense to want to see the two of them together. But I learned pretty quickly that Cooper prefers male company, so that shot down my dream of Cooper falling in love with my mom.
I take a seat at the breakfast bar and watch Cooper cleaning up the kitchen. “Why didn’t you tell me about Sam?”
Elbows deep in hot, soapy water, Cooper stiffens. Then he resumes rinsing off a mixing bowl and sets it on the drying rack. His broad shoulders rise as he heaves a deep sigh and reaches for a towel to dry his hands. When he finally turns to face me, his expression is carefully guarded.
“Why is this so hard for you to talk about?” I ask him. “I love you. I love Sam. I couldn’t be happier – ”
Cooper crosses his arms over his chest and frowns. “Beth, honey – ”
“You know that no one in this family would ever judge you or give you any grief. We just want you to be happy.”
Shane walks into the kitchen. “What smells so good?”
“Banana bread,” Cooper says, pushing away from the sink. “While that’s baking, I’ve got some work to do. If you kids will excuse me.”
Cooper heads down the hallway toward his room.
Shane watches him go. “Did I miss something?”
“I asked him about Sam.”
“Oh.” Shane nods. “Well, that explains it.”
“Explains what? I don’t understand all this secrecy.”
Shane scoops me up into his arms and carries me toward our suite. “Come on, young lady. It’s way past your bedtime, and I need some quality couple time.”
* * *
Saturday morning, I slowly come awake to the feel of a warm body pressed against my bare back and slow, steady breaths ruffling the hair at the back of my neck. Shane’s head is on my pillow, hogging it, and his arm is around my waist. I can feel his penis stirring against my butt cheeks.
It’s highly unusual for him to sleep in like this, even on the weekends. He’s usually up before dawn, either working out or following up on business. But not this morning. I turn toward him, surprised to find his eyes closed. I’m amazed that he’s still asleep. Gently, I nudge his shoulder, and he rolls onto his back.
I take advantage of this rare opportunity to get my fill ogling his beautiful body. His dark hair is tousled from sleep, and the face I love so much is relaxed. I count the tiny crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and study the sweep of his long lashes, wishing I could see those beautiful blue eyes.
My gaze dips down to his lips, which are beautifully formed and framed by his short mustache and beard.
I feel a warmth spread outward from my belly, heat sinking lower into my womb, making me tingle as I look my fill. The sheet is down at his waist, leaving his torso exposed. His body is so beautiful, his skin perpetually kissed by the sun, his chest a work of sculpted muscles. A light dusting of brown hair covers his pectorals, obscuring his flat nipples, eventually coalescing into a trim line that bisects his abdomen as it heads straight for his groin.
I gently tug the sheet down and follow that trail with my gaze to the thatch of darker hair at the base of his thick penis. Right before my eyes, his penis stirs, lengthening and thickening, turning a dark, ruddy color as it flushes with arousal. I glance up to find him watching me, a very satisfied smile on his handsome face.
“Do you like what you see?” he says. His sleepy voice is hoarse, and it sends more tingles coursing through me.
I grin, feeling my face heat up. I’ve been caught staring. “Yes.”
“Good.” He runs his fingers down my naked spine, making me shiver. “Did you have anything in mind? Besides looking, I mean.”
“Maybe.”
“Carry on then,” he says, relaxing. “Don’t let me stop you.”
I tug the sheet lower, exposing muscular thighs covered in a light dusting of hair. His growing erection lies thick and heavy on his thigh.
His fingers are gentle as they stroke up and down my spine, but I can see the tension forming in his tightly clenched abdominal muscles. He wants this, badly, I can tell. He wants me to touch him. To taste him.
I swallow in anticipation, reaching out to run my finger along the length of his erection. He’s hard as steel beneath velvety soft skin, and the contrast amazes me. I wrap my fingers around the head of him and pull back his foreskin to reveal the broad, flushed crown of his cock. There’s already a glistening drop of pre-come on the head, and he watches a
s I bend down to lick it off with the tip of my tongue.
“Oh, God,” he groans, throwing his head back into his pillow. His entire body shudders. His long fingers burrow into my hair, gripping my head firmly, which sends a bolt of pleasure to my sex.
“Beth.” He says my name like it’s a plea.
I smile. Usually he’s the one who initiates sex. It’s just his nature to take charge and call the shots, and I like that. I like it when he turns me into a wet, whimpering, trembling mess. But right now it’s my turn.
I lower my face closer to his erection, and I know he can feel my breath on him. “Do you want this?” I ask him, taking a page out of his own playbook. I’m going to make him say it.
He moans. “Now you’re just being cruel.” His fingers are still burrowed into my hair, but he puts no pressure on me to close the distance between my mouth and his cock. “God, yes, I want this. Have pity on me, sweetheart.”
I wet my lips, then slowly draw the bulbous head of his penis into my mouth. He makes a low sound deep in his chest when my tongue flicks against his slit, tasting him.
“Christ, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” he says.
My lips stretch around the wide girth of him, and I take him in as deeply as I can manage. When my tongue strokes beneath the rim of his head, Shane arches his back. His breath is coming fast now and his fingers flex on the back of my head. The sounds he makes are a mixture of pleasure and agony, and they make my own sex flush hotly, clenching in response.
I tease and torment him with my lips, my tongue, my hands, and his erection swells. His chest is heaving, and with his free hand, he fists the sheets, clawing and twisting the bedding. His other hand is still on the back of my head, alternately stroking my hair, petting me, and grasping the back of my head. I lick him from the tip to the base, while one hands gently massages his balls.
Suddenly, he reaches for me and pulls me up astride him, settling me on his hips. His eyes are glittering with need as he slips his fingers between my thighs to test how ready I am.
“Jesus,” he says, when he encounters my hot, wet flesh. “Ride me, honey,” he says, nudging his cock against my opening. “Make yourself come on me.”