I stared at the prints, a little overwhelmed that I’d ever been that small. Easton’s were even smaller than mine.
“I-I wanted that moment for you so badly—the second you saw your own child for the first time. Maybe you’d understand what it’s like to love something more than yourself. To live for that someone. To die for him. It kills me that it was taken from you.”
“Mama, I don’t—”
“The doctor told us you’d never be able to have children after your injury, and I didn’t know how to handle it. You seemed fine, as though it didn’t matter, and maybe I thought you were too young to understand. I didn’t know what to say, but I should have said something instead of letting you deal with it on your own.”
The memory couldn’t be stopped.
* * *
“Ninety-nine miles an hour. So close.”
I tested my swing a few times before stepping up to the plate.
“I’m gonna break a hundred and one. Beat your speed,” Wyatt said from the pitcher’s mound. “With this ball right here. You ready, Carter?”
I pointed toward the fence. “That ball is going out of the park.”
“Will you two stop running your mouths and start playing,” Coach yelled from near first base.
Wyatt and I grinned at each other. We were in constant competition on the pitcher’s mound, pushing each other to be better even though we were great friends.
“I’m strolling around the bases while you go fetch that ball after I hit it.” I tapped the bat on the dirt a few times and got in my stance.
He spun the ball in his hands. “You ain’t even going to make it to first base.”
Once the catcher gave the signal call Wyatt wanted, he nodded. But I knew what was coming. Fast ball.
He wound up and the baseball zinged toward me at lightning speed. It was too low. Impossible for me to take a swing. Too fast to jump out of the way.
Whack.
Pain exploded. I grabbed my crotch and fell to the ground in the fetal position.
“Carter! Shit!”
And then the world went dark.
* * *
Discreetly, I adjusted myself as I recalled the moment. Damn that had hurt. And then I’d pissed blood, the doctors had done a test, and I’d found out I’d never have a family of my own. That was like taking a fast pitch to the crotch all over again.
I couldn’t stand the pain in Mama’s eyes. “What was there to say? They said I was infertile. There’s really not a whole lot to be done for it, and I wasn’t all that keen on talking about it.”
“I didn’t just hurt for you. I hurt for myself too. I wanted to be a grandmother. That disappointment was difficult for me to take.”
“Easton can give you grandkids even though Mulaney isn’t exactly maternal,” I said snidely, unable to resist a jab at my sister-in-law.
“They wouldn’t be yours, though.” She glazed over my insult, and I looked back down at the pictures, guilt swamping me. “Any child would be a blessing, but I just wanted one—well, more than one—from each of you. That’s silly and selfish, but it’s how I feel.”
“Why is that selfish? There’s nothing wrong with wanting lots of grandchildren.”
“There is when I was so devastated over what happened that I treated the situation like I was the one who lost the most, not you.”
“I never got that impression. Not at the time and not now.”
“I still—I’m just sorry. I let you down.”
It never once occurred to me she had suffered over my inability to have children. I should tell her about Gabriel and give her a chance to know him, to know of him. It would make her happy, be another reason for her to keep fighting.
But when I opened my mouth to say the words, nothing came out. Holly and I had agreed not to disclose his paternity. Besides, I was in a good place with Mama. She’d forgiven me for what I’d done, and if she found out I’d kept the one thing she wanted from her for almost six years, she’d be upset. Not to mention that I’d left everything up to Holly and hadn’t taken any responsibility for that boy.
I’d thought she was lying. I couldn’t father a child, so she had to have been after me for money or something. It could have been solved once and for all years ago if I’d agreed to a paternity test. But I hadn’t been prepared to face the consequences. Like the asshole I was, I’d held it over her head, using it as leverage to keep her mouth shut.
My mother would be as disappointed over that as any of it. No. Signing away my rights to the boy would be the kicker. There was no way I could ever let her find out about Gabriel and the things I’d done, not when she was the only one who really loved me.
“Let’s forget about it, Mama.”
I hoped she would. Hoped that she’d never stop loving me even though Gabriel’s existence would do much to heal her broken heart.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sonya
The Carter apartment was luxury defined.
After three nights of sleeping in a chair, I was ready for a bed. Judging by the looks of this place, it was going to be a comfortable one.
Loretta was settled in their room, Mr. Carter fussing about like a nervous hen. His dedication to her was awe-inspiring. There was no room to doubt his love for her. He only left her side to shower and rest. Now that she was out of the hospital, those moments apart would be fewer.
Mr. Carter was clearly uncomfortable around Drew as if he was in a constant battle of holding his tongue for the sake of his wife. Drew didn’t cower from or avoid the man, but he did spend most of his time with his mother when Mr. Carter wasn’t around.
It was a different story with his other son and his daughter-in-law. Not a complete one-eighty, but more relaxed, as if he didn’t have to be on guard. This behavior led me to the conclusion that Drew hadn’t been lying when he’d confessed to stealing nearly a billion dollars from his family.
If he’d done that to me, I wouldn’t have allowed him anywhere near me, son or not. That always led me back to thinking about Trish and how she’d said she’d love Ella no matter what she did. I couldn’t grasp the concept. Some things were unforgivable, blood or not.
I was impressed how they’d all but set aside work to be there for Loretta. She was their priority. Business a distant second. That couldn’t be easy on any of them.
But I ached for Drew. He watched his family huddle together around his mother, from the outside looking in. I slipped an arm around him, which he tried to shrug off. He glared at me when I refused to let go but held me so tightly I thought he’d squeeze the life out of me.
“Let’s get out of here.” He looked away from them gathered around Loretta’s bed as if he couldn’t stand the sight any longer.
“Hang on a sec.” I rifled through my bag and approached the bedside. “I have something for you.”
Loretta’s eyes lit, though they were weary. The journey hadn’t been far, but it had taken its toll. I held out a box and noticed the skeptical expressions around the room. By default, I was a rotten person for being associated with Drew. I didn’t care what any of them thought of me . . . except Drew’s mother. She never made me feel inadequate or unwanted. If anything, she seemed pleased I was around.
She lifted the lid, folded back the tissue paper, and pulled out a red shawl, smiling. “Did you make this?”
My cheeks colored, and I felt Drew’s strong hand on my shoulder in support. “Yes, ma’am.” At Paths of Purpose, they taught women skills while providing entertainment and interaction with others. I’d joined the crochet class when I lived there, finishing it this morning during my volunteer shift. Mrs. Quinn had let me when I’d told her who it was for and even helped me box it up. “It’s my first attempt at anything like that, but Drew told me your favorite color was red. I thought it might keep you from getting chilled.” I was rambling nervously as she draped it around her shoulders.
“Thank you. That was very thoughtful. And perfect.” She beamed at me, fingering the soft mate
rial.
I shrugged and blushed deeper, not wanting any credit. Doing things for others wasn’t my style, and I didn’t know how to handle it.
“Do you need anything, Mama? We’re going to let you rest a while,” Drew said.
“No, baby. Just come back for supper. Both of you,” she emphasized, leaning back against the pillows.
Drew nodded and led me out of the bedroom without acknowledging anyone else. Sam stood in the doorway, torn between going with me and staying with Loretta.
I crouched down and put my head against his. “It’s okay if you want to stay.”
He licked my face, and I kissed him back. When I let him go, he trotted over to the bed and put his paws on the side. Mulaney hoisted him up, much to my surprise. He snuggled next to Loretta with his head on her stomach, and her entire body relaxed.
I caught up with Easton and Drew when they were almost to the front door.
“Supper’s at six,” Easton said.
Drew stiffened, and my brows shot up at the invite.
“Do we need to bring anything?” Who do I think I am, Merry Homemaker?
Easton gave me a tight smile. “No. Thanks, though.”
* * *
I was ready to crash, couldn’t wait to shower and take a nap. The bathroom off his parents’ room was like a spa, and I couldn’t wait to take advantage of the one Drew would no doubt have. I bet he even had down pillows, one thousand thread count sheets, and a soft duvet.
When he opened the door to his apartment, my face fell. This was nothing like the place we’d just left. The living room and kitchen would fit in the foyer of the Carter home. The walls were a stark white, and the only furniture was a minimalist-looking black sofa and coffee table. Not even a television.
“There’s your bed, toots,” Drew said, motioning toward the sofa that looked more uncomfortable than the floor. My mouth dropped open, and he closed it gently with his thumb. “My brother and sister-in-law have dibs on the other bedroom since he’s my warden, so you’re on the couch.”
I wanted to slap him. “You got me kicked out of the shelter for this?” I was practically yelling, arms flung wide.
“The bathroom you can use is an en suite, so if you’re one of those who has to get up at night, you’re going to have to learn to hold it. I can’t be disturbed while I’m sleeping.”
I growled and backed him down the narrow hallway. “You’re a—”
“What am I, sugar?” he taunted when I struggled to find the right word.
“An ass. A big, giant fucking ass.” I didn’t care if I sounded like a child. I was furious. My room at the shelter had been better than this.
“You already knew that.”
I stopped pushing and glanced into the bedroom. It was barely large enough for a full bed and chest of drawers. I went in search of the bathroom. It had to be better than the rest of this place.
It wasn’t. The shower-tub combo was tiny, and the rest of the room was stark white and small. There would be no long, luxurious shower with multiple rainheads and jets. No heated tile floor. No big tub to soak in.
“Prison cells are worse,” he said behind me, and I whipped around to face him.
“What do you mean?”
“It was either this or the big house. I wasn’t in a position to argue,” Drew said nonchalantly.
“You really did steal all that money from your family, and this is their version of jail?” It sucked, but it was heaven compared to the alternative.
“Yep, and I can’t come and go as I please either.”
“But you have been.”
“That’s because my father’s been preoccupied. Now that we’re all in the same building again, I’m sure it will change.”
“They can’t do that. There’s no way to enforce it,” I said, affronted on his behalf when seconds ago I was furious with him. Strangely enough, he didn’t seem all that upset about the situation.
“Oh, but they can, my dear. As good as I am, I may have gotten a bit too big for my britches.”
“Jesus, Drew. We’re a long way from Texas. You can’t say stuff like that here in the city.”
“I’ll say whatever I want, wherever I want.”
I let out a scream of frustration, the one that I’d wanted to let go since we set foot in this apartment. He just laughed.
“Since I’ve been kind enough to give you a place to stay, we need clean towels.”
That was it, the last straw. My hopes for a long shower and fluffy, fresh towels were dashed, driving me to madness. “I hope they send you to prison,” I seethed, and his expression turned lethal.
“If they do, I’ll find a way to take you with me,” he hissed.
“Try it,” I warned, baring my teeth when he was so close I could feel his hot breath.
“Get naked. Now.” I shivered even as I laughed at him. “I wasn’t joking.”
“What’s funny is that you think, because you fucked me once, you can do it again at will.” I put my hands on his stomach, not-so-gently shoving.
“No, sugar. What’s funny is that you think that attitude is good enough to mask just how much you want me. Swipe your finger across your cunt. You don’t even have to dip inside. If it comes out dry, I’ll leave you to the laundry and the sofa.”
Fucker.
“You want me to do it for you, don’t you?” he asked huskily against my ear. My traitorous sex clenched as if he’d touched it with his fingers instead of his words.
“Get away from me.”
“You promised you wouldn’t lie to me.”
Screw him for turning on the seduction. Any other woman, and he’d have her panties off by now. That thought pissed me off. “Do your own damn laundry.”
“It’s ours now, sugar.” He went for the button of my jeans. I swatted at him, but he was undeterred. “I hope you saved some of that money you hustled because you need something else to wear.”
“Oh my God, I’m telling your mother.” He grinned even when I grabbed his wrists to stop him. “I’m dirty, and I’m too tired to put up with your shit,” I declared even as my body revolted, ready for him.
“Suit yourself.”
Immediately, his body heat was gone, and I missed it.
With one hand, he took himself out of his jeans, and Christ almighty, the close-up view was intimidating. I’d seen my fair share of cocks, most of them disappointingly small, but Drew’s was right up there as one of the most beautiful. He had length and width, and a thick vein on the underside that pulsed as it pointed at me. It taunted me too.
Drew took his shaft in hand and worked his grip up and down it tantalizingly slow. I was riveted to the motion, as if I’d never seen anything like it. It was hot, to the point where my thighs rubbed together in attempt to get some relief. My traitorous lips parted, eager to take him in my mouth.
But he backed away and sat on the bed, stroking himself. I didn’t move as he brought himself closer to orgasm.
His arm muscles flexed as he worked his cock, his eyes locked on mine. My palms itched to have him in their grasp. My mouth watered for a taste. I ached to feel him inside again.
He saw all of it, and damn him, if I hadn’t earned the right to touch him, I’d touch what belonged to me. I lifted my sweater so it was just below my breasts. I slid both hands over my stomach, pushing my jeans and underwear down and raising my hips. My fingers inched between my soaked slit, and I lolled my head to the side, deliberately looking at him as I eased my middle digit inside.
“Did I say you could touch yourself?” he rasped, jacking faster.
“I don’t give a damn what you say,” I breathed, collecting moisture and spreading it around my clit so my other hand could join the party.
“Two fingers. Put them in that cunt. Don’t waste my time teasing with just one,” he demanded, and I did exactly as he wished.
God, I felt good. I hadn’t realized the pressure that had been building for days since he’d last taken me. I needed relief.
&nbs
p; “Faster. Work that clit. I want you to come for me in record time.” The muscles in his neck strained, and my stomach clenched.
My fingers hummed against the swollen nub. I hissed, the sensation almost too much to bear. I was already close.
“Don’t you even think about stopping. If you do, I’ll never give you what you want,” he warned, his voice becoming more strained as he worked himself even faster.
“I haven’t decided if you’re getting what you want again,” I declared, though it was breathy and seductive instead of biting.
“Your pussy is aching for those fingers of yours to become my cock. It’s been desperate to feel me again.” If he didn’t stop talking, I was going to come. “You love that I’ll take you wherever I fucking feel like it. Anywhere, any hole. Because you are my fuck doll.”
I couldn’t stop it. My walls clamped on my fingers, and his name was pulled from somewhere deep inside me, releasing on a scream as I came. I couldn’t close my eyes, his holding mine in satisfaction and triumph that he was right.
“Look at my cock,” he grated out just before he erupted, ribbons of come coating his hands. The stream seemed endless as though he’d never stop coming.
When he finished, he stood, towering over me, his dick in my face. He tucked it away and buttoned his jeans, the zipper a final taunt that I wouldn’t be getting him right now.
“If you’d have played nice, I’d have cleaned you up,” I said as I lazily righted my panties. The hint of silk had his eyes flickering with desire.
“I’m not playing. And you don’t want me to be nice.” He held out both hands, offering to help me up, a complete contradiction to his words. “Let’s go to dinner.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Drew
Something was in my bed. It couldn’t have been ten minutes since I’d lain down, but the covers had definitely lifted, and I was being crowded. This full-size offered barely enough room for me.
Thick As Thieves: An Enemies-To-Lovers Romance (Paths To Love Book 5) Page 16