Chapter 58 Love You For Us
love you for us
Liam
“You threw me over your shoulder.” She runs her finger over my chest, playing with the sparse hair there.
“I did.”
“Your family is going to know we had sex.”
“And?” My finger on her ass cheek traces a design into her skin.
“And that’s…” She never finishes her sentence.
“You think those babies came along via stork?”
She slaps me lightly with an open palm. “No, but…”
“Would you prefer they believe we’re celibate?”
She pushes up to look down on me, squeezing her eyes into a cute glare.
“I don’t want them to think about our sex lives at all.”
“Agreed. And I don’t want to think about my sister that way at all. Speaking of, what did she say that made you hopeful?”
Her face brightens above me. Her beauty is stunning normally, but she’s radiant post sex. Add to that real joy, and I’ll have to trap her in a basement or something. No one should see her this perfect.
“Oh, well, we were fake plotting a hostile takeover at Platt. With enough shareholders on board, I could get back to the research on autoimmune stuff. I’m sure she was joking, but it was a fun daydream. Sariah even said she’d hack into the system or something. Seriously, it was all a pipe dream.
I squeeze her ass with my hand there. “That’s a great idea actually.”
“Yeah, except for the money part.”
“How much are shares going for?”
She shrugs. “Fantasies are just that. They don’t require research. It’s like hitting the lottery. You make big plans, but no one actually wins. If I won the lottery, though, I would buy the shares and then do the research. It’s that kind of dream.”
I reach for my phone but remember it’s in my pants on the floor by the door. “Where’s your phone?”
She rolls off me, and I immediately miss her heat and the weight of her at my side. She extends the phone to me, and I open it to begin searching.
“How did you know my code?”
I give her a look that says she must be kidding me.
“No seriously. How did you know?”
“Which do you want to know… that or the current stock price?”
“I can google the current stock price.”
I flip the phone her way and show her the screen I already have pulled up.
“That’s cheap. I expected… Okay, I have no idea if that’s cheap or not and I don’t have any concept of stock prices. I’m no broker. I have no desire to be. Graham crackers—now that I think about it, I think I have stock options as part of my pay. Hmmm. How long would it take me to have enough?”
I just smile. The woman uses graham crackers as an expletive while planning a not-exactly hostile takeover over of a company.
“Are you laughing at me?” Her black hair curtains her face as she looks down at me.
“I’m”—I pause staring at her face, realizing I’ve been okay or fine, even content for a long time—“happy.” And I am. There’s a bubble that wants to explode from my chest that’s pure joy.
And I owe it to the woman next to me.
Lorien
Corinne moves around the kitchen with efficiency and a no-nonsense manner. She’s the woman who prepared breakfast for everyone and she’s making a dinner that has my mouth watering.
Liam stuck close to my side when we came downstairs.
There was no doubt what we’d been doing or for how long.
I could feel the heat flaming from my cheeks each time Sariah or Ayla looked my way.
They’d smirk or wink, and the embarrassment would roll from somewhere near my belly button creeping its way to my hairline.
He was otherwise engaged when Sariah mouthed later to me and gave me a knowing smile.
Apparently, it’s later now because Liam is off with Christian and I’m surrounded by my sisters-in-law. And a woman named Annika. She’s Ren’s wife—the man who was drinking espresso on the sofa this morning.
He and Christian are half-brothers. So she’s my sister-in-law’s sister-in-law, if my genealogy is correct. She’s smuggling a bowling ball under her tee. Her attention is split between supporting the weight there and staring at the babies that move arm to arm, lap to lap around the family.
“How much longer do you have?”
“Two weeks if she comes on time. She better come on time. Morning sickness has been”—she looks to her wrist as if there were a watch there—“roughly thirty-eight weeks now. I’d take natural childbirth just to stop vomiting.”
“Watch those words. Natural is no joke.” Sariah shakes her head.
“You had Wills naturally?” I ask.
“Of course not. They make drugs. Drugs are good. Drugs are necessary. Don’t skip the drugs. Yay drugs.”
Ayla cuts in, nodding to me. “Exactly what the pharmaceutical girl loves to hear, right?”
“I’m a researcher. I don’t think that counts.”
“You know what I mean,” Ayla replies.
“Speaking of know what I mean,” Sariah takes a segue that isn’t there at all. “You and Liam look… comfy.” She lifts her eyebrows to her hairline.
Ayla looks between the two of us, while Annika studies us.
“He is comfy.”
“Oh, dear one.” Sariah shakes her head. “You’ll come to see we expect details.”
Ayla lifts a finger. “But not too many. It is my brother, after all.”
I scrunch my brow.
“You look like you just sucked on a lemon,” Annika adds.
“I don’t want to think of my brother that way.”
“Yeah,” she replies, but it’s wistful. There’s something there I don’t know.
“Well, I don’t have a brother,” Sariah puts in. “That I know of, anyway. So spill.” Her eyes light up.
I shrug. “This morning was a huge miscommunication. That’s all. We’re fine.”
“And?” Sariah prompts.
“And we had sex.” The words are a garbled whisper.
Ayla throws her head back and laughs so loud Sophia startles with a cry and Franklin barks. “Lorien, we already knew that part. That afterglow you’re sporting isn’t from your massage.”
“Jealous?” Sariah asks Ayla.
“A little. I miss Christian in that way.”
“Yeah. Same.”
Annika pushes her belly into the huddle. “Don’t be. Look at what happens. I don’t dare sneeze these days.”
“I’m on birth control.” It’s a whispered confession.
“You’ll know when you’re ready,” Ayla offers with more mellowness than I’ve ever seen from her. She stares down at Sophia in her arms and rubs a finger over her forehead.
“Or you won’t,” Annika deadpans. “And you puke until you’re okay with it.”
“Or both,” Sariah adds.
“We’re not talking about kids. We’re…” I don’t know what we are, actually. We’re doing things so backward, I don’t know which way is up.
“But you told him you loved him.” Sariah grins.
“You did?” Ayla asks.
“Liam?” Annika’s voice reveals the confusion that surrounds my relationship.
“Yes and yes.” I nod.
“And he said?” Ayla prompts, leaning in.
“He loves me too.”
The shouts that go up in the room include Franklin’s barks. Annika looks confused. Ayla and Sariah look amused or thrilled or something else that resembles being over-the-moon.
“I knew it,” Ayla says to herself.
“Told you,” Sariah says.
“Liam?” Annika repeats as I tilt my head to her in confusion. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“I did,” Ayla offers.
“Same.” That’s Sariah. “And the woman who gets his love…” She whistles.
You can say that again. “Yeah.”
Ayla’s hand runs down my arm from my biceps to my own hand that she squeezes. “Love this for you, Lorien, and love you for us.” Turning to Corinne, she adds, “We need to celebrate.”
“Of course, Mrs. Barone.” The older woman wanders off toward the butler’s pantry and returns with wine, champagne, and sparkling apple juice, and pats Ayla’s hand. “For the nursing mamas.”
“There’s no room for bubbles in drinks these days.” Annika taps her belly. “But I’m celebrating in spirit.”
I don’t know what to do with these women.
My own sister knows nothing of my life. I know very little of hers.
And here I am, surrounded by friends, maybe even family, who want to celebrate Liam loving me and our not-an-arrangement anymore.
There are babies and puppies, and even a little black kitten somewhere in this house.
And my parents. What will I tell them?
“Excuse me a minute.” I lift a hand and head to the back door off the deck.
It’s summer, and the sun’s still up, so it’s hot, but there’s a lovely breeze. The fresh air is exactly what I need. I’m not panicking. I’m happy, actually. Like Liam. Happy.
But there’s so much going on, so many unresolved things that even love—fresh, exciting, new love—won’t protect me from.
“Well, hello.” A man sidles up from the garden hedge. He must be one of the Barone’s men. This place has security like the Pentagon. Or I assume so.
“Hello.”
“Mr. Barone and Mr. Murphy don’t want you out here exposed. Please follow me.”
“Liam sent you?”
“Mr. Murphy sent me, yes.”
It feels off. He’s too dark. It’s not the suit. It’s his demeanor. Not aloof like Fitz or stoic like Ren, but cold.
“I’m good, but thanks. Liam can take it up with me himself if he has a problem.”
I turn away from him, trying to recenter myself. I’ve felt different at Christian and Ayla’s but never unsafe and this man gives me the heebie-jeebies. I pivot to head back inside when a sickly-sweet aroma hits my nose. It’s cloying, almost like antiseptic, and….