Wargasm (Payne Brothers Romance Book 3)

by Sosie Frost

  Jules agreed. “So, did you bring Rem here just to berate us, or is your contribution to the night a case of indigestion?”

  “Let it go, Cas,” Rem said.

  Jules wasn’t about to peacefully transition into dessert. “We got rid of you once while you were sniffing around Cassi. Now you’re home again. What do you expect out of this…job?”

  Rem didn’t back down. “I needed a nanny.”

  “Is that all you got?”

  For Heaven’s sake. “Enough guys. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Sure, it does,” Jules said. “He hired you. Lured you up to that mountain. Now you’re spending your nights there too. All alone. All isolated.”

  Rem nearly laughed. “I don’t need a mountain cabin to get laid.”

  “No, not when you can fuck a nanny.” Quint scowled. “You hired her to get in her pants. We shouldn’t have let Cassi take the job.”

  Oh, hell no.

  “Let me?” My sharp tone wasn’t nearly the punishment they deserved. “Excuse me, but I am an adult—more than I can say for half of you. I can choose where I want to work, what I want to do, and who I want to sleep with.”

  Silence.

  Uh-oh. That was the wrong thing to say.

  Rem leaned in, his voice low. “Take it back, take it back, take it back.”

  Jules stood. “You slept with him?”

  My stomach flopped. The food didn’t go with it, choosing to evacuate to my throat. “There are kids at the table.”

  That meant nothing to my brother. “You slept with him?”

  I had a split second to either deny everything and reassert my virtue or to sit in awkward silence as inevitably the image of me and Rem together spawned in each of my four brothers’ minds.

  The results were predictable.

  Their chairs scraped against the floor. My brothers stood. Rem clutched Tabby a little closer to his chest.

  But it was Tidus who launched first, thrashing over the table, upending the mashed potatoes, crashing into the gravy, and flinging roast beef against the wall with a gooey slap. Quint dove for Tidus, holding him back before he flung the container of broccoli at Rem.

  “You said it was over with her!” Tidus pointed at him. “Jesus Christ, Rem! You can’t keep it in your pants for a goddamned summer?”

  “Hey!” I grabbed Mellie before her fistful of butter also splattered against the wall. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Wrongo.

  Tidus lunged again. Quint grasped only at his shirt now.

  Rem stepped away from the table, voice low, baby in his arms. “You wouldn’t hit a man with a kid, Tidus.”

  Tidus didn’t blink. “Cassi, take the baby.”

  “Come on.” I pleaded with Varius. “Can’t you calm them down?”

  Nope—not when Varius was equally pissed. “Was this your plan all along, Rem?”

  “The hell do you think I am?” Rem’s jaw tensed—the first time he’d let himself get angry. Mellie crossed to his legs, wrapping her arms around him. He tussled her hair, but even she couldn’t prevent his voice from rising. “You all knew how I felt about Cassi.”

  Tidus scowled. “You said you’d never touched her. I believed you!”

  “I hadn’t.” Rem shrugged at me. “It just…happened. And I’m glad it did. You all know how much I…care about her.”

  “I trusted you,” Tidus said.

  “Yeah…” Rem stared him down. “I think I earned that trust.”

  “Earned the chance to fuck my sister?”

  “I earned a chance to be forgiven!”

  Chaos erupted, and Mellie quickly learned no less than five new vocabulary words that would be sure to prevent her acceptance into any decent preschool. Tabby began to cry, her hands reaching back to the table where her forgotten sippy cup dripped milk onto a mashed potato stained carpet.

  Rem shouted. Tidus yelled back. Quint reluctantly prevented a fistfight. Even Varius couldn’t keep the peace. He resigned himself to picking far-flung peas and bits of yams out of his dinner plate. Above it all, Jules cell rang. And rang. And rang.

  “You don’t deserve forgiveness,” Quint said. “You set the barn on fire. We lost everything. Animals. Feed. Equipment.”

  “I can’t undo what I did.” Rem stared only at a silent and seething Tidus. “But maybe one of you could have a little understanding.”

  “There’s nothing to understand,” Tidus said. “It happened. It’s done. None of us give a fuck about the barn.”

  “Bullshit. That’s what this is all about.”

  “No, this is about you taking advantage of our sister!”

  “Taking advantage?” Now Rem got pissed. “We have feelings for each other. Always have. Always fucking will.”

  “Hey!” Jules shouted, hand over the phone. “Quiet down.”

  “You think you’re good enough for Cassi?” Tidus laughed. “How many drugs did you do as a kid? How many times were you arrested?”

  “You tell me—you were there too.”

  “Guys!” Jules pointed to his cell. “This is important!”

  “But I never pretended to be something I wasn’t.” Tidus growled. “I never pretended I was a good guy. I never took in babies so I could convince myself I wasn’t a sack of shit. I never chased after a girl who was too good, too nice, too sweet for me. I knew better. I thought you did too.”

  “People change,” Rem said.

  “Not men like us. Especially not men like you.”

  “Jesus Christ.” Jules threw a glass against the wall. The crash silenced everyone. He held the phone in his hand, covering the speaker. “Everyone shut up!”

  His face had paled. He clutched the phone, nodding every so often with a grunt.

  “Is he conscious?” he asked.

  My stomach dropped.

  Jules glanced over us, his eyes wide. The question reluctantly drew from his lips. “Is he gonna live?”

  The fight was forgotten. The uneasy quiet turned my stomach.

  And somehow—I knew what Jules was going to say.

  My brother ended the call with a wavering breath. He met my gaze first, heart-broken.

  “It’s Marius. There was a firefight. He was hurt. They’re flying him to a military hospital at a bigger base—couldn’t tell me where. He’s going into surgery.”

  A long pause.

  Heavy, terrible silence.

  Jules answered the question none of us wanted to ask. “They don’t know.”

  The weight of it all crushed us into our seats.

  Another crisis. Another sleepless night.

  We couldn’t handle another fight. Another emergency. Another funeral.

  This family couldn’t survive another death.

  15

  Remington

  “I hate you!”

  Mellie had first declared it at eight o’clock when I’d asked her to go to bed.

  She repeated it at nine o’clock when I physically placed her in said bed.

  When she screamed it at ten o’clock, I gave up.

  Night number seven of complete failure.

  Couldn’t even put the kid to bed at a reasonable time. Couldn’t get her to eat her dinner.

  Couldn’t get her to do anything but tear my heart in half.

  Three little words.

  How the hell did those three little words cut so goddamned deep?

  She was just a kid. A three-year-old didn’t understand hate. Did she?

  So why did it feel like a test…a goddamned Olympic trial.

  On Tuesday, she’d loved eggs. On Wednesday, she wailed, pouted, and threw them to the floor. Took an ice cream sundae to calm her down. Yesterday, she’d liked her bath. Tonight, it was an unrelenting torture, as if I was scrubbing her skin off instead of the dirt.

  How could a little kid grind down every last shred of patience? Mellie was thirty pounds of adorable cuteness and criminal deviant. A master of manipulation with a set of lungs on her that could be heard all the way to
Butterpond.

  I was out of options. Out of energy. Out of fucking patience.

  With Cassi stationed at Walter Reed Hospital while Marius underwent his multiple surgeries, I had to deal with the kids myself. And I was failing.

  I’d always thought myself capable. Give me an axe, point me at a grove of trees, and, after a time, I’d build a fire, create a goddamned house, and craft all the furniture I needed to survive.

  Put me in a cabin alone with these girls for a week?

  Chaos.

  Nothing shattered a man’s confidence more than begging a damned toddler to eat her favorite grilled cheese sandwich.

  Cassi had made it seem so effortless.

  “Damn it! I hate you!”

  Mellie picked up steam and a few vocabulary words. Great. I was rubbing off on her. How was I supposed to fix that? Timeouts did nothing. She screamed over stern lectures. If the kid wasn’t crying, she was fighting with me. Sometimes at the same time. Most times, right after she’d been beaming ear-to-ear.

  I gave up. The child was unknowable. She fought with me through the night, and, as a result, Tabby hadn’t slept either. She started crying, her wails echoing through the house. That must have made me the biggest piece of shit outside of her diaper.

  “What do you want?” I knelt before Mellie. “Just…tell me. What do you want?”

  Tears streamed over her face. She spoke through four fingers in her mouth, garbling every word.

  “Elsa watch eat I’m hungry why want to color.”

  Fantastic.

  “Do you want mac and cheese?”

  She shook her head yes. “No.”

  I couldn’t take much more. Wasn’t like I had the instincts, inclination, or basic human decency to handle the girls. According to Cassi’s family, I didn’t deserve Cassi and I sure as hell shouldn’t have fostered the kids.

  Glad the Paynes saw it so clearly. I’d been deluding myself for the entire fucking summer.

  “You’re getting mac and cheese.” If I bargained with a three-year-old, neither of us would win. “Then bed.”

  “No!”

  “Whatever.”

  The pot clanged on the stove loud enough to shake the cabinets. I measured out the water and turned up the heat, hoping I could distract the kid with twenty minutes of TV while it boiled. No such luck.

  Within a minute, Mellie had enough of the waiting. She trudged into the kitchen, dropped her doll on the ground, and reached for the pot.

  “Mellie, no!”

  I stopped her before she dragged it from the stove, but not before her hand touched the hot metal.

  She screamed, flailing away from the searing pot. Her little hand flushed red, but I didn’t get to see it before she cradled it against her body, sunk to the ground, and started to cry.

  “It was hot!” I yelled. “Why the hell did you grab it?!”

  My shout terrified her. She rolled on the floor, screaming louder.

  Was she trying to get away from me?

  My heart lurched into my throat. Why didn’t it just make the final slice and end my misery then and there?

  I hoisted the kid onto the counter and checked her hand. Red, but not seriously hurt. Still painful. What was I supposed to do for a burn? Butter? Worked on toast, probably not on kids.

  Water first.

  I stuck her hand under the faucet and forced her to open her palm. Her face had turned as red as the burn, and she kicked while I tried to help.

  “Mellie, stop. Sweetheart.” I slowed the stream of water. “I know it hurts.”

  “I hate you!”

  “You gotta let the water cool it down.”

  “I hate you, Uncle Rem!”

  “I’m trying to help!”

  “I want Mommy!”

  Now that was a first, and it kicked me right in the gut.

  Maybe I’d been wrong.

  Maybe the kid did know what hate meant.

  Hell, if she wanted to risk the drugs, the neglect, and the hungry nights to get back to her mom…

  Christ, how bad of a parent was I?

  That answer was easy. I couldn’t even last a week without Cassi. The kids were cranky, hungry, and fighting. Discipline didn’t work. They’d refused any entertainment. They no longer respected me.

  Little hard to demand respect from someone when I didn’t respect myself. Cassi’s brothers were right. Chasing her was wrong. I’d done it anyway. I’d seduced her, knowing she had unresolved feelings for me. Hell, I didn’t even try to mend her broken heart—just fucked her until she forgot about it.

  She deserved to know the truth, but I was too chickenshit to give it to her.

  And why?

  Because then she’d be the one to leave.

  It wasn’t just the barn that complicated us. The fire had destroyed more than an old building. It’d destroyed me. Burned friendships and bridges. Consumed futures and reputations. I’d never once redeemed myself for the lies. How could I?

  Maybe the kids saw through the smoke. Maybe they sensed the real me.

  Maybe they knew they were better off with Emma. Hell, she was out of rehab. Found a part-time job in town. I’d even talked to her, amazed by the clarity of her voice and mind.

  Emma was getting better.

  And I…

  I was getting worse.

  The cool water helped Mellie. I dosed her with some Children’s Tylenol and covered the burn with some gauze and about six different Barbie band-aids until she was satisfied. After an hour, she went to bed. I tossed the macaroni in the garbage, loaded the baby monitor app on my phone, and sat outside on the porch to drink a beer. I had second. Then I had another.

  Around midnight, headlights appeared on the horizon. I hadn’t expected her until the morning. Cassi dragged herself out of the car, exhausted. Hair in a bun, sweats low on her hips.

  Absolutely beautiful.

  Her purse thudded onto the porch. “Hey, stranger.”

  I’d planned to save the fourth beer to knock me out. She needed it more. I popped the cap and handed it over.

  “How’s Marius?”

  She sunk down on the swing next to me. Eager to cuddle or looking for answers? I wasn’t the right guy to comfort her. I did it anyway. Selfish. Desperate for her. Missing her touch, her kiss, her laugh.

  All the things that should have never been mine.

  She rested her head on my shoulder. “They amputated his leg.”

  “Shit.”

  “He’ll be in the hospital for a while, but…at least he’s alive.”

  “What’s he gonna do?”

  She hummed. “No idea. He can’t go back in the SEALs. He’ll be in rehab for months. And someone has to take care of him. Jules didn’t want to talk about it there. They had him pretty doped up, but if he heard us talking about eventually bringing him to the farm, he’d induce himself into a coma.”

  I didn’t envy that fight. Jules and Marius only ever saw eye-to-black-eye, even when they were kids. Then again, wasn’t like Quint got along with Tidus. Or Tidus and Varius. Or Marius and anyone else. Fortunately, they all had Cassi to rely on, but how much could one woman handle?

  “He ran away from us too, you know?” Cassi didn’t rub it in. She twisted the knife. “He couldn’t stand anything on the farm. Hated Jules. Fought with everyone. The SEALs were his way to get half a world away from us. He didn’t even come home for Dad’s funeral.”

  “Probably couldn’t make it.”

  “Just when I thought things would settle down…” She tangled her fingers in mine. “I’m so sorry about what happened.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “I didn’t get to talk to you.”

  “You had to go see Marius. It’s okay.”

  “It’s not.” She kissed my shoulder. “I know you’ve changed. My brothers will see it too, but now everything is even more complicated. The guys hated each other, but with Marius coming back…”

  “From one battlefield to another.”
r />   She looked away. “I don’t care if we don’t have their approval.”

  “Hell, Cas. I’m not even sure I approve.”

  “Don’t say that.” She squeezed my hand. “How are the girls?”

  Living on processed sugar, but at least I hadn’t spiked their juice with Benadryl. Considered that a victory.

  She scrunched her nose. “That bad?”

  For once, I was completely honest with her. “I’m not cut out for this, Sassy.”

  “Of course you are.”

  “No. This week was…” I didn’t have the words, but I had a beer. I chugged it. “The kids hate me.”

  “They don’t.”

  “I can’t make them eat. Can’t give them a bath. Pretty sure Tabby has diaper rash. And Mellie…I fucked up. Lost my temper. Fought with her. Tonight she burned her hand on a hot pot. Cried for an hour.”

  Cassi sat up. “How bad?”

  “Just red. But enough to scare her.” I finished the beer. “Probably the highlight of the week.”

  “They’re sleeping now?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And they’re safe?”

  No open flames or heated pots in their room. “Yeah.”

  “Then you did good.”

  But was that all I should have expected from myself?

  Getting overwhelmed was pathetic enough. I already knew I was a bad influence. A bad uncle too. Last thing I wanted was to do was traumatize the kids.

  Good thing Emma was finally clean.

  Cassi gave me a sly grin. “I take it I have job security?”

  “You get a raise.”

  Her eyes darted down. “So do you…apparently.”

  She stood, stretching in that perfect way that arched her back and showcased every delicious inch of her body.

  I shouldn’t have wanted her. Shouldn’t have let those terrible and degrading images run through my head. Shouldn’t have listened to that dark, selfish part of me that hungered for a woman who deserved so much better than my hands on her curves, lips on her skin, and cock buried deep inside a surrendered innocence.

  She knew better than to lick those pouty lips. “I take it you missed me?”

  I was on her in a moment, pulling her into my arms, one hand gripping her hair, the other clutching her waist. I dragged her against my body and punished her smile for daring to tease me.