Quiet Man

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Quiet Man Page 15

by Kristen Ashley


  “Mo—”

  “Babe, go upstairs and put on some clothes,” he murmured.

  Was he insane?

  We didn’t have time for that!

  “But—”

  Tex boomed, “Get your ass in here, girl.”

  There it was!

  No time for that.

  Mo looked toward my living room.

  I looked toward my living room.

  It was filled with the Hot Bunch.

  Tex appeared in the archway.

  “What did I say?” he demanded (in another boom).

  “Tex—”

  “Eddie got the word. Smithie had some lunatic who was fixated on you and sending detailed letters of how he was going to cleanse you,” Tex stated (loudly, as well as irately). “And you. You didn’t call in me or the boys.”

  Eddie appeared at Tex’s side.

  “Lottie, get in here,” he growled.

  Oh man.

  I felt Mo’s hand come to the small of my back and he put pressure there.

  Apparently, he’d realized it was time to handle this.

  Immediately.

  But at that juncture I wanted to dig in my heels. However, since I was an adult and not ten minutes ago had decided to act like one, I probably shouldn’t go back on that now.

  Tex and Eddie got out of our way so we could hit the living room.

  My living room wasn’t small, as such.

  And it didn’t seem tiny with all those big men in there.

  It seemed miniscule with all those big men being seriously ticked off at me in there.

  “Uh—” I started.

  “Hawk had it covered. I had her covered. It’s done,” Mo said over me.

  Was he seeing these men?

  I mean…

  Did he really think that was going to work?

  “We’ll get to you next,” Tex boomed at him.

  See?

  It did not work.

  I looked to my side and up to see Mo had his head bent, staring at his feet, his profile telling me he was even more amused than he’d been before.

  Yes, he was insane.

  This was not funny.

  I had to take things in hand.

  “Listen, guys, like Mo said, it’s done,” I shared with the room. “It’s been rough, but it’s over and we’re on to the celebratory phase. So if we could do the debriefing when there’s beer and tequila handy, in other words, some other time, it would be appreciated.”

  “The celebratory phase?”

  This came from Hector.

  And the way it came from Hector had my body locking.

  It was then I noticed that the Hot Bunch had been so preoccupied with being pissed at me that they hadn’t quite noticed Mo was there, he was wearing nothing but cargos, and I was in a nightie.

  Oh man.

  “You do not, ever,” Luke growled at Mo, “enter into an intimate relationship with the person you’re protecting.”

  Mo’s head came up and he wasn’t amused anymore.

  Oh man!

  “He didn’t,” I said hurriedly to Luke. “We didn’t start that until a couple of hours ago.”

  “Intimacy doesn’t only involve fucking,” Vance declared.

  He had me there.

  “It was totally professional,” I lied.

  “Looks professional to me,” Ren remarked.

  I glared at him, wondering what he was even doing there. He wasn’t a member of the Hot Bunch.

  Though he was married to Ally Nightingale, now Ally Zano, and he was most definitely hot, and his own brand of badass, and obviously, when it came to certain things, it appeared it was all in the family.

  “It’s over now,” I snapped. “Like I said, we didn’t start the fucking part until a couple of hours ago, even though I would have started fucking a week ago, Mo wouldn’t let me. So from that, you can see it was all professional.”

  “Can you stop talking about fucking Mo?” Lee asked angrily.

  “I’m a big girl, Lee,” I shot back at him.

  “You’re every man in this room’s little sister, Lottie,” he returned. “So as such, can we please stop talking about you fucking anybody?”

  I didn’t answer him.

  I’d gone solid.

  I was Jet’s little sister.

  I wasn’t…

  Woodenly, my head moved so I could take in the men in the room.

  Every last one was scowling at me.

  Because it wasn’t that my sister and all her friends’ men (and okay, also my friends) were badasses and assumed they could take care of all the women in their lives’ problems, no matter what kind of satellite that woman was in their life.

  It was that all my big brothers had been kept in the dark when something was threatening me.

  I didn’t…

  I didn’t know.

  I was just Lottie, Jet’s little sister.

  I had no idea they felt this deeply for me.

  But they did.

  They did.

  They felt really fucking deep for me.

  It was then my throat closed and my eyes got hot.

  “You didn’t come to me.”

  My attention went to the man who spoke.

  Eddie.

  Oh boy.

  “Eddie,” I whispered.

  “If they didn’t have it…” He shook his head. “If something happened to you…” He couldn’t finish that either.

  And I knew that, now, he couldn’t not only because his life would be hell if something happened to his beloved wife’s beloved little sister, his beloved boys’ beloved aunt.

  Also because something would have happened to his sister-in-law, a woman he cared deeply about.

  Oh God.

  “It didn’t. It was Hawk Delgado, Eddie,” I said quietly. “He had it.”

  “I’ve been to this guy’s house, Lottie,” Eddie retorted. “If they didn’t have it…”

  He again didn’t finish.

  With not a small amount of difficulty, I swallowed.

  “Lottie, honey, look at me,” Hank called.

  I looked at Hank.

  “There was more than just finding this guy,” he said. “You had to be out of your mind worried. You should never take that on alone. It doesn’t help you or the situation and it doesn’t save the people you’re keeping in the dark from anything. They’re just going to feel what you’ve endured over a week in a second,” he lifted a hand to indicate the room, “as you can see.”

  To be honest, I hadn’t even thought of that.

  I just put my head down and got on with it.

  But I did that because I didn’t want to worry anyone. Worrying the girls at work was bad enough, and that wasn’t my choice. If it was, I wouldn’t have done it.

  And I was Lottie Mac. I was a tough broad. I could handle anything. I’d been on my own and doing that for a long time.

  Not to mention, I had Smithie. Hawk Delgado. His team.

  And I had Mo.

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “But I had Mo.”

  Bad idea.

  Hank looked to Mo and his gentle big brother expression vanished.

  “How about you go put some clothes on while we have a word with Mo,” Luke suggested.

  Oh no.

  “Luke—”

  “Lottie,” Mo’s hand came again to the small of my back, “go get dressed.”

  I looked up at him. “I’m not leaving you.”

  “It’ll be okay. We have to have a chat,” he replied.

  My spine snapped straight. “I’m not leaving you, Mo.”

  “You need to put some clothes on,” he retorted.

  “I’m practically wearing a smock,” I fired back.

  “It’s sexy AF and not helping anything,” he returned.

  It was not.

  Was it?

  “It isn’t.”

  “Lottie, I would know,” he pointed out.

  “I would too, my eyes are burning,” Luke muttered.


  “Babydoll nightie, Christ,” Vance bit out.

  I looked down at myself.

  Okay.

  Maybe it was cute.

  And a little hot.

  I turned to the men. “You’ve seen me strip. All of you.”

  Luke’s gaze bored into mine. “Don’t remind me.”

  “I might hurl,” Hector mumbled to floor.

  Holy smokes.

  They were totally my big brothers.

  “Lottie, go put clothes on,” Mo rumbled.

  And there was the Brook No Argument Voice.

  I glared at him. “Fine.” I turned my glare to the men in the room. “But no one hurt him while I’m gone.”

  “We’re not gonna hurt him,” Ren said.

  “I might hurt him,” Vance murmured.

  “I’m in on that,” Hector added.

  “You’re not gonna hurt him!” I yelled at Hector.

  “All right, all right. Cálmate, hermanita,” Hector replied.

  To make certain that happened, I turned my attention to Tex and announced, “When the time comes, I want you walking me down the aisle.”

  Tex had been uncharacteristically quiet through all this, likely thinking the men had it in hand since they weren’t letting up on me.

  He remained that way after my announcement seeing as he went visibly still.

  The room went still.

  Time stood still.

  “And prepare,” I continued. “Because it’s gonna be a huge-ass wedding and I’m wearing a sexy dress. Like Roxie’s, except sexier. Lots of flowers. A colossal cake. Server passed hors d’oeuvres. Open bar. The whole shebang.” I whirled on Mo. “You down with that?”

  “Whatever you want, baby,” he murmured, looking amused again.

  “Good,” I snapped.

  “You’re already getting married?” Eddie asked, his voice low and unhappy. “You said you just started things up a couple hours ago.”

  I whirled on him. “When did you move Jet in with you?”

  He shut his mouth.

  Mm-hmm.

  Not a one of them could use the “you’re rushing into this” defense. They’d each claimed their women at the speed of light.

  Thank God I didn’t have to put up with that.

  “And no, not yet,” I carried on. “We haven’t even had our first date. But signals are showing he’s the one. We’d see if all systems are a go if I’d stop having religious freaks after me or my living room filled with meddling men. Though,” I turned back to Mo, “we do kinda have that crackpot to thank for bringing us together.”

  Mo’s eyes narrowed and a noise that sounded like a growl came up his throat.

  Okay, so, not yet in the threat-over, post-sex-haze-of-goodness benevolent mood.

  Important to know.

  Eddie sighed, and I looked back at the Hot Bunch.

  Lee was grinning.

  Hank was looking at his feet…and smiling.

  Vance and Hector were looking at each other, still not happy.

  Luke was watching Mo.

  Ren smiled at me.

  I turned to Tex.

  “Well?”

  Tex stared at me.

  Then he came at me.

  First, his hand went to the top of my head.

  Once there, he used it to shove my face in his chest.

  That was when his arms went around me.

  I closed my eyes and put my arms around him.

  Yeah, I didn’t need to be my dad’s best girl.

  I just needed Tex around.

  “It’d be my honor, Lottie,” he low-boomed into the top of my hair.

  Yeah.

  All I needed was Tex.

  And Mo.

  And the Hot Bunch.

  Life taketh away.

  But if you’re open to it, it also giveth.

  And I had a lot.

  “Now put some clothes on, girl,” Tex ordered, let me go, spun me around, and gave me a gentle push toward Mo.

  A knock came at the door.

  “Christ,” Mo muttered, the soft look he was giving me after watching the Tex hug turning to an impatient one. “I’ll get that. You get dressed,” he said to me.

  “All right. I’m going,” I replied.

  He went to the door.

  I went to the stairs.

  I was up three of them when I heard. “Good, Mo. Glad you’re here. We need to ask you a few questions too.”

  This meant I pivoted and went right back down to watch Mo ushering in Mitch Lawson and Brock Lucas.

  Fabulous.

  I knew Mitch and Brock because they were cops, they got around. And I worked at a strip joint, and there were always lots of people around and by the law of averages, some of those people did things cops were interested in.

  We weren’t best buds, but they were good guys that on occasion had to talk to me because of, say, one of the girls dating someone who was a fuckface or Smithie calling in the police when he suspected someone was dealing from a car parked in the club parking lot.

  Though I liked them, they were two more men I had to get out of my house before I could suck Mo’s massive cock and then ride it, this prior to getting to know him better in other ways.

  “Hey, Lottie,” Mitch greeted.

  “Mitch.”

  “Lottie,” Brock said.

  “Hey, Brock.”

  “Lottie.”

  That last was a growl.

  I looked to my mound of hunkalicious boyfriend and got his message.

  Definitely time to get dressed.

  “I’m gonna get dressed. Don’t start without me,” I said to Mitch and Brock, and before they could reply, I twirled and ran up the stairs to get dressed.

  * * * *

  Mo joined me in order to put on a shirt.

  This was a heavy burden to bear, after waiting so long wondering what was under that shirt, finally having it, liking it a whole lot, and then again having it hidden away from me.

  But hopefully this would all be over soon, I could call in sick, we could both get naked again and recommence the celebratory festivities.

  I put on cloud-gray joggers with a matching slouchy top that fell off my shoulder, only to have Mo inquire, “You just can’t do it, can you?” with his eyes assessing my outfit.

  For goodness sake.

  “This outfit isn’t sexy,” I informed him.

  “Babe, there was time for me to get on my knees right now, I’d do it to thank God you don’t got a dick. But I do. So that’s my call. And it is.”

  I couldn’t argue that.

  So I used, “All those men are very taken, Mo.”

  His gaze cut from my outfit to my face. “Yeah, so am I. By you. And now I gotta be interviewed by the cops fighting getting hard.”

  Oh.

  Well then.

  I struggled against smiling while I asked, “What do you want me to wear?”

  “Until this house is empty but you and me, a shroud.”

  Okay.

  I couldn’t not smile.

  “I don’t have one of those,” I shared through it.

  “Let’s just get this done,” he said through a sigh.

  I was down with that.

  We walked out of the room together, me under an additional burden, this being the burden of Mo’s heavy arm flung over my shoulders.

  This burden I didn’t mind bearing.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “You’re safe, we’ve fucked twice, I’m good…for now.”

  “No, I mean with Tex and the Hot Bunch being here.”

  He stopped us halfway down the stairs, stairs that weren’t exactly narrow, but they were with me jammed up next to my mound of hunkalicious boyfriend.

  “The Hot Bunch?” he asked.

  “The Nightingale Men, plus Eddie and Ren. Haven’t you read the books?”

  “Those Rock Chick books?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I answered.

  “No, I haven’t read those books,” h
e muttered.

  That was probably good.

  However…

  “Don’t you read?” I asked.

  “I can read,” he answered.

  “No, I mean, enjoy reading, for fun.”

  “I’m too busy. If there’s time I can, I listen to them.”

  I smiled up at him. “Cool.”

  He stared down at me. “Are you in them?”

  Hmm…

  I decided to start by playing dumb. “In what?”

  His arm squeezed my shoulder.

  He meant was I in the Rock Chick books.

  And he knew I was playing dumb.

  To avoid my collarbone snapping, I said, “Kind of.”

  “How kind of?”

  “The kind of kind of that’s more like a yes.”

  He stared down at me.

  Then he blew out another sigh and resumed our descent of the stairs.

  We joined the men who had decided to hang around (this being all of them) and I saw Eddie had made himself at home and was handing out coffees.

  I made a mental note to buy more pods as Mitch and Brock suggested I sit at the dining room table while we chatted.

  I took the head and there was a slight kerfuffle when Mo firmly positioned himself standing at my right side, which meant Eddie had abandoned his coffee post and was trying to position himself at my left, where Tex was also positioning himself.

  “Who’s givin’ her away, motherfucker?” Tex asked to end the hubbub. He didn’t allow Eddie to answer. “Me. So stand down.”

  “She’s gonna make you wear a tux,” Eddie warned, giving in badly.

  “So what?” Tex asked.

  Everyone in the room looked at Tex in shock.

  He wore flannel shirts and jeans.

  The end.

  Unless he was under duress, this being when he got married, when a Rock Chick got married, and when he went on a cruise with my mother. On that he wore swim trunks for the sole purpose of wearing them, and since he was only slightly smaller than Mo, though older and a lot hairier, he cleared the deck by the pool on the ship because people were terrified of him.

  “I didn’t give Roxie away ’cause Herb horned in on that action,” Tex went on, referring to his niece and Hank’s wife.

  “Herb’s her father,” Hank pointed out.

  “Yeah, well, she’s got two arms, am I wrong?” Tex noted.

  He was not.

  “And if I get Lottie to the altar and change my mind,” Tex continued, “when I’m asked who gives her away, I can punch this guy in the face and take off with her.”

  On that he jerked his head Mo’s way.

  But on that, I was having second thoughts about asking Tex to give me away because Tex was unpredictable, and this sounded shocking, but with him, nothing was out of the realm of possibility.

 

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