Teddy Bear Sir (The Sloan Brothers Book 3)

by Willow, Jo

  There was only one way to find out.

  I cleared my throat and held out my hand. In a voice loaded with authority I pinned my eyes to hers.

  “Ayla, come HERE.”

  She jumped and then ran to me before Tony could react and hold onto her. Keeping my eyes on him, I kissed her forehead and pushed her behind me to be with Melody.

  Tony growled low in his throat, anger radiating off of him in waves. Before he could charge, I felt people take positions to my left and right. That’s when I saw a different kind of fear. The fear of a trapped animal.

  His eyes darted around, searching for escape that was nowhere within his grasp. His path was blocked by a wall of men, some wearing badges.

  I took a step forward and leaned in to talk softly to him.

  “If I were you, I’d practice the Sub part of the equation. Where you’re going, I’ve got the feeling there are more Doms than Subs.”

  He lunged at me, but Chase had a handcuff on him before he could reach me.

  I turned around to find people being ushered out of the room with the announcement that club would be closed until further notice. Anton had Melody in his arms and Ayla flew at me. I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her up, her feet dangling several inches off the floor.

  “You came to me.”

  “You told me to.”

  “So? Since when do you listen to me?”

  “Since you look hot in Dom pants.”

  I started laughing and then I kissed her, swearing never to let her go.

  I felt a tug on my sleeve and found Melody looking up at me. I put Ayla down but kept my arm around her.

  “Teddy Bear you saved me.”

  I tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled at her.

  “Did he hurt you Jaws?”

  “He didn’t get the chance. We came here and there were people around. I think he would have though. He talked about taking me into a private room.”

  I pulled her into a one armed embrace and kissed the top of her head.

  “Glad to be of service little sister.”

  She stepped back and her eyes fell to my hand.

  “Is that Anton’s ring?”

  She pulled Ayla’s hand to her face and chuffed.

  “That’s MY wedding ring! What are you two doing wearing our rings?!”

  Anton wrapped an arm around her shoulders from behind and bent down to kiss her neck.

  “They stole our Elvis too babe.”

  Her eyes grew huge.

  “You two hijacked our wedding? You got married?”

  Ayla moved in closer and I started laughing while I started moving towards the door.

  “It’s a long story. Can we tell it once we get home and change? I’m beat.”

  We left the club and parted company for the night. Police interviews and statements would follow, but for now, everyone was safe.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It felt good to be in my preferred mode of dress. Leather does not suit me, no matter what my wife may think. It suits her, and I vowed to myself that she’d wear it again once this period of our life was nothing more than a memory. For now, we dressed after showering together and prepared ourselves for the gathering that was taking place in less than an hour at Deacon and Dorothy’s. We stayed within reach of each other since our ordeal last night. I couldn’t speak for Ayla, but it felt like we were afraid of losing sight of one another.

  Deacon had left word for security and we were escorted to their condo in due haste, no explanation or announcement necessary. Even though we were twenty minutes early, we were the last to arrive save the detectives that were due any minute. We walked into the living room to find everyone that was present on the plane two days before. Ayla held my hand tightly and the whole thing felt surreal. We were safe and we were together.

  We took a position on one of the sofas and Deacon stood patiently by the fireplace, waiting for everyone to settle once again. Once all eyes were focused on him, he began.

  “The only thing they want to question us about is last night. They heard most of it themselves because Jon was wired and standing close enough to catch the confrontation. All they want is confirmation and a little background.”

  He looked at Ayla and Melody.

  “That’s where you two come in. This is not the time to be shy. If we want to send this asshole away for a long time, you two have to be honest and straightforward. Got it?”

  Both women were nodding in agreement. Deacon nodded once and then smiled.

  “On a lighter note, I’m having a son. Dorothy told me yesterday. Brian Grant Sloan will make his appearance in a little over a month. We’re hoping his sister follows next year.”

  Dorothy’s eyes grew huge and she began to sputter. Deacon kept on smiling. Eyes shifted from him to her, and I, for one, knew this would be good.

  “Next year? You think I’m doing this again next year?”

  Deacon shrugged as if it were nothing.

  “We may as well have them all together babe. My brothers and I grew up close and I want that for our children as well.”

  Not in the least bit appeased by his answer, Dorothy cocked her head.

  “What if it’s another boy smarty man? Then what?”

  He grinned and took another step back, even though he was well outside of her reach.

  “We keep trying. We’ll eventually have a girl. The law of averages is on our side.”

  I watched one of her eyebrows raise as Melody cleared her throat trying to suppress laughter. Dorothy’s focus remained on her husband.

  “If you think the rest of my life will be spent as a broodmare, then you’d better hope the law governing homicide is on your side. Better yet, you think Jaws is a cute nickname for Melody, let’s see how cute it is when you folks start calling me Edward Scissorhands.”

  Deacon visibly flinched and Melody lost her battle with laughter. She started pointing and laughing at Deacon, the sound infectious to the rest of the room. Correction. The rest of the room minus Deacon. He moved closer to Dorothy and leaned in.

  “You’d never hurt me Dor’. Besides, I feel lucky. We’ll have a girl next. Then a boy, then another girl.”

  “Deacon, you’re an idiot. You can’t say that!”

  “I can say whatever the hell I want. I’m Deacon Sloan. You watch and see if that’s not how it goes.”

  “What if I don’t want four children?”

  “It can’t be helped babe. That’s the way it is.”

  He shrugged as if that were the end of the debate on the matter. Dorothy began rubbing her sizable abdomen, murmuring something about his daddy being crazy.

  I was surprised at how easy it was and how little time it took. Chase took over the interview for the most part, giving the facts from a small leather notebook that he had with him. The detectives took their own notes, nodding their heads and asking questions when appropriate. Ayla described her previous relationship with Marconi and we were all surprised to find that the police had gotten background from his parents already. They hadn’t simplified or played-down any of the events and their version matched Ayla’s, minus details.

  As for Melody’s encounters, she was blunt and to the point. She left nothing out and Anton squirmed next to her several times during her retelling of the story. They informed them both that unless Marconi plead guilty, they would be required to testify at his trial. They agreed, then we were left alone. The whole experience took less than two hours, including coffee. We looked at one another after they left.

  It felt strange to feel relief. No more looking over our shoulders, no more living in one another’s pockets, no more fear. We were finally free.

  Melody plastered a hard expression on her face and leaned towards me.

  “You owe me a wedding.”

  “You’re right, we do. When do you want to go back to Vegas?”

  She was shaking her head back and forth.

  “Oh no. You’re not getting off that easy. I’ve got some thinkin
g to do and Anton and I will decide when and where this will happen. That doesn’t mean that either of you are forgiven.”

  I rolled my eyes and put my arm around Ayla.

  “Oh come on! It was a cheesy venue with an Elvis impersonator! You think that’s what Ayla and I would have chosen for ourselves? Think about it!”

  She waved her hand.

  “Doesn’t matter. It was our venue and our Elvis. They were supposed to be OUR pictures and memories. You stole those from us Teddy Bear. Those things were sacred and can’t be repeated.”

  “Elvis? Sacred?”

  The wheels started turning and I voiced my thoughts.

  “Melody, you’re after something.”

  A cat-like grin fell onto her face and her eyes began to sparkle. This was not going to be easy and I was not going to like it.

  “What will square this with us Mel’?”

  I’d asked the question she’d been waiting for.

  “Your Dom class starts next week. I want you to go.”

  Ayla squeaked and I glanced her way. She looked at her lap, but not before I saw the smirk on her face. I squeezed her hand, but she refused to look at me. I returned my attention to Melody.

  “There is no way in hell that I’m stepping foot back in that club Mel’. That place is a memory to me now and it’s one I don’t care to repeat.”

  “Oh you’ll go back alright. And you’ll wear those sweet leather pants too. You’re going back and you’re going to show them how it’s done Teddy.”

  Okay. Now I was confused.

  “Pardon me?”

  “You heard. Big scary Dom Marconi uses bully tactics, but you just held out your hand, issued a command, and Ayla practically ran to you. It was impressive. You need to go to this class to see what you can learn and what you can teach. Then we’ll discuss the wedding.”

  I blew out a breath and slid forward in my seat, resting my elbows on my knees. I thought about her request and I knew I had to bargain. I raised my eyes to hers and made my intentions clear. This would be my only offer and she could tell that by looking at me.

  “One class Melody. I’ll attend one and only one. Then I’m finished and we’ll speak no more of Elvis or those damned leather pants. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  Melody threw her arms around Anton’s neck as if she’d won the grand prize on a television game show. In a way, perhaps she had. I’d had no intention of attending even one of those classes, yet here we were. I had every intention of destroying those leather pants, yet it seemed I’d call them into service one more time. My pleasant day was quickly going down the toilet in a royal flush.

  The rest of the week went by in a flurry of conversations about Brian. Of course Dorothy’s parents were ecstatic, her father would have a namesake. But their excitement paled in comparison to the reaction they received from our parents.

  Dad no longer had an office. Mom explained he could move his desk into their bedroom or the barn, both had plenty of room. His argument that the baby would only visit sporadically due to distance, fell on deaf ears. Her return argument was that they should move to upstate New York. He drove her to pick out the paint for the nursery.

  They were still discussing cribs and cradles, changing tables and monitoring systems. I began to wonder if every new grandchild would receive it’s own room and when the new addition to the house would begin.

  True, Brian would be the first born, and therefore the Crown Prince of the next Sloan generation, first in line to rule Sloan Enterprises. This was much discussed during business lunches when it was the three of us, tossing around the idea of trust funds and where he would go to school. Mostly, I tuned these conversations out. In my opinion, Brian would probably be born with a mind of his own and these conversations had no relevance whatsoever. On one sunny Spring afternoon though, a conversation between my siblings kept me glued to my spot, tuna salad sandwich clutched in my hands.

  Anton unwrapped his Italian sub and took a swig of his soda. Deacon was eating a grilled chicken salad. The three of us were in Deacon’s office, killing time. Anton winked at me and I knew a chain was about to be yanked.

  “Hey Deke? What if Brian doesn’t want to go to college?”

  I bit into my sandwich and watched Deacon twitch.

  “Why wouldn’t he want to go to college? He can pick any school he chooses. Of course he’ll go to college. He can’t run the company without an education.”

  Anton nodded and carried on before he took a bite.

  “What if he’s more along the creative line? What if he’s stupid? What if he doesn’t like school and prefers a more hands-on life, like, oh, I don’t know...the military?”

  “He’ll go to West Point, graduate with honors and my next child will take over the company. What do you mean stupid? No son of mine will be stupid Anton. That one is likely up to you and Melody.”

  “My kids will do what they choose to do. Not what I deem they’re supposed to do. My kids will live their own lives, not the one I choose for them.”

  Holy crap. Anton spewing wisdom. Could the four horses of the Apocalypse be far behind? I had to weigh in, this was too good to pass up.

  “He’s got a point Deke. You’re planning Brian’s life out like he’ll blindly follow your directions. That does seem a bit...unreasonable.”

  Deke swallowed his bit of salad and chased it with his bottled water.

  “It’s not unreasonable. It’s practical. He’ll do as he’s told.”

  Anton choked for a moment on a potato chip and then rolled his eyes at Deacon.

  “Give me one name of anyone in your life that’s done what you’ve told them to do.”

  “Dorothy.”

  I started laughing and Anton slapped the table.

  “You’re resorting to lies? Since when has your wife followed one of your commands?”

  Deacon smiled and sipped his water once again.

  “I told her she was pregnant and by god she was. I asked for a son and she gave me one.”

  I shook my head.

  “You are so full of shit. I’ll give you the pregnancy one, but you didn’t demand that she GET pregnant, you informed her that she was. Completely different things. You didn’t care what the sex of the baby was, I heard you say that yourself. Try again.”

  He sat up straighter and pointed at both of us.

  “You two. You do what I tell you to do because I’m CEO of the company.”

  I wiped my mouth with my napkin and sipped my iced tea.

  “Wrong again. I’m Research and Development, and Anton’s Marketing. That has nothing to do with you.”

  “It has everything to do with me! I send you emails and memos at least three times a week! If I didn’t have my fingers in your departments, then why do you do everything I request?”

  I looked at Anton and he looked at me. He shrugged.

  “Do you read his memos?”

  I started a slow shake of my head.

  “I haven’t read one of his memos in years. Do you read his emails?”

  “Fuck no. It takes him forever to get to the point and he’s usually ten steps behind me anyway. His shit goes to my spam folder. I don’t even open them anymore.”

  Deacon stood.

  “You two sit in two of the most trusted positions in this company and you don’t even read the memos or emails that the CEO sends out?”

  We were both shaking our heads and Deacon sat back down defeated. He placed his head in his hands while his eyes remained on the table. I went back to my tuna and Anton leaned forward.

  “And we’re just your brothers. Can you imagine how many different ways your son can fob you off?”

  Deacon’s head shot up and Anton merely grinned and took a giant bite of his sub.

  Checkmate.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I stood outside the same building that we’d rescued Melody from, and checked once again for a response to my text message. I was dressed in my leather pants - as promised - and a
white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up (Ayla’s request). Class started in thirty minutes. I’d texted Melody to beg her indulgence on this embarrassing endeavor and as of yet, had received no response. She was going to make me do it.

  This bothered me for one very important reason. Deacon and Anton were supposed to be in Costa Rica this very day, hanging above the tree tops, zip-lining. They were supposedly home having dinner with their better halves. No one questioned their refusal to go except me. Deacon’s argument was that at seven months pregnant, Dorothy could barely tie her own shoes. He wanted to be there in case she needed anything. Fair enough, but I replied that her sister would take care of her needs. That was met with laughter. When I questioned Anton, he delivered a shrug and simply said, “I don’t want to go. I have a wedding to plan”. That was a lame excuse if I ever heard one.

  So here I stood, staring at a building I detested, glaring at a door I did not wish to enter, dressed like the lead guitarist in an ‘80’s hair band. As I approached, one thing was for certain. My blackening mood was probably perfect for the endeavor I was about to undertake.

  With my spine erect and my head held high, I opened the door and came face to face with a well dressed woman holding a clipboard. I gave her my name, she snapped a black leather bracelet onto my wrist and told me not to lose it, as I would be required to wear it to get in for the rest of the classes. I saw no reason to enlighten her to the fact that this would be the ONLY class I would attend. I did not feel particularly communicative at that point.

  I followed her directions to the large room we’d entered first the last time we were here and found it emptied of sofas. The only furnishings were straight backed chairs, each containing a spiral notebook and a pen, placed on the seat. I found it strange and oddly humorous that taking notes would be required. My mind further wandered as I began to contemplate what the final exam would entail. I found my first smile of the evening.