Chapter 29
“There, all better, huh?” I cooed as Quinny’s dimples popped into existence. “Just needed a change, and some cuddles, and all is well. Huh, baby girl?”
“Aoooom.”
“Aooom,” I echoed back, my cheeks aching with how much this girl made me smile. “Aooom,” I repeated, mostly because it made her giggle, but partially because if I allowed my brain to go silent, it rapidly sunk into spiraling panic. Panic over Broderick. Panic over the show. Over what I actually wanted amongst all the unknowns. If I eliminated all the factors out of my control, where did I want to settle? Did I want to keep traveling? Speaking? Doing book tours? Or did I want to plant roots somewhere, and if I did plant them, where?
Oh god.Opting for a safer topic, I squeaked, “Aooom.”
“Momomom,” she babbled back, bending in half to pull her little toes toward her mouth.
“Yes, I know. But mom mom is getting some time with dada.”
“Dog.”
“Da-da,” I emphasized each syllable.
“Dog,” she repeated, before popping a big toe into her mouth.
“Ew,” I said, wrinkling my nose and trying to free her chubby little digit. “We don’t suck on toes, Quinny.” I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes at the little sunspot, now sporting a clean diaper and the cutest glittering red tutu dress that showed off priceless MichelinMan worthy rolls on her arms and legs. I needed to squeeze her forever and ever and smother her in so many kisses it was ridiculous. The palm tree wrapped in Christmas lights on her chest was even cute, although I wasn’t entirely convinced spending Christmas somewhere warm wasn’t sacrilege.
Noel was surprising Jameson with not one—but two puppies for Christmas, each of them dubbed after the main character in his favorite movie, A Knight’s Tale. Quinny, Brex, Max and I had gone on a stealth mission to retrieve them, and our little cherub had been babbling about dogs all night, much to our chagrin. Honestly, I just needed the time away from Broderick and my brothers, and the drive to clear my head while Max and Brex chattered at each other.
“That’s alright. Uncle’s not that bright, and I bet I could convince him you were talking about Royal.”
Royal. I love all animals, really, I do. But Brex’s golden retriever had a weird affinity for the rabbits on our parents’ property. So much so that she nearly got Rhyett killed a few years back when the house caught fire and she wouldn’t abandon a baby bunny under the deck. My beautiful big brother refused to abandon her, the big lug. Come to think of it, the man probably saved Royal because she was secretly his spirit animal or something.
But she was cute and sweet and Quinny’s biggest fan, despite the fists full of fur regularly liberated from her shiny coat. “Should we go find Uncle Max? Should we?” I cooed again. What was it about babies that just liquified my brain cells?
“Mah.”
“Max,” I mimicked back, emphasizing the x.
“Mah.”
A phantom pressure settled between my shoulder blades, but I just cleared my throat before saying, “Yes, Max. Come on, Quinny.” When I scooped her into my arms and turned on my heel, I came face to face with the one man I’d never gotten over. It turns out, I could officially, undoubtedly, say that getting under him certainly wouldn’t have helped the cause, despite the suggestion being thrown my way for a decade.
Because now that I had…when I straightened and met that molten gaze where he leaned against the doorframe, every inch of my being lit up with expectation. His laugh, his touch, his scent, the image of him ranging over me—all hard lines beneath warm, rich skin—before he knocked my breath clean out of my lungs with that magnificent dick. Seriously. Other dicks could only aspire to his level of greatness.
“Hey,” I managed awkwardly. Fuck, I hated that it was awkward. But it was. God, it was. The house was packed, in true Rhodes form, and we’d barely seen each other in the last three days. Yes, we shared the kitchen for cookie baking, but with the guys all shelling nuts, stringing popcorn, and talking shop, and the girls all focused on layering the entire island in flour, we hadn’t gotten to say more than a few words.
Jeanne was back gallivanting the planet—only God knew where—and Alice was locked down helping Captain Hartless with something she didn’t feel like discussing. She’d had two migraines in as many weeks, and Rhyett, Hads and I were seriously discussing an intervention if things didn’t look up soon. But ten of us, plus Brex and Quinn, Noel and her sweet family, and Max and Broderick made for a chaotic three-thousand square feet.
Much to my simultaneous disappointment and relief, Broderick had been pressured into staying with Rhyett, Brex, Jameson, and Noel, while the other eight of us invaded our parent’s house like a swarm of candycane laden locusts.
“Hey,” he husked. I couldn’t help but wonder if I wasn’t the only one using the crowd as a shield. Using the chaos to keep myself busy and try to think through our options. Regardless, every inch of my body was screaming to close the distance, to go to him and let our bodies talk in a way words couldn’t. Because, fuck, I loved him. But continuing on as we were—fighting to connect for a few days at a time or stuck on phone calls for weeks at a time—wasn’t an option.
A timid smile curled one side of his mouth as he eyed Quinny, who gave a stilted baby wave and a, “Ba-oop.”
“Hey, baby girl, you sure are beautiful,” he said softly, but I didn’t miss the fact that his eyes were on me as he said it. “Your auntie sure looks good with a baby on her hip, too.”
“Thank you,” I mouthed back, not trusting my voice. My throat was too tight, tongue too leaden with all the unsaid things. Some horribly condemnable, selfish part of me wanted him to pick me. To pick us and walk away from that going-nowhere fishing town. The rest of me…was unspeakably proud of the love of my life for setting his eyes on a goal and becoming one of the best along the way. His hands flexed at his sides, and he took a stiff step forward before swallowing hard and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Those gorgeous eyes found his feet as he rocked on them.
A heartbeat later, Rhy popped into the doorframe, tapping on the molding to announce his presence. Broderick must’ve heard him walking down the hallway. He gave Broderick’s arm a playful smack, grinning like a kid that just spilled their bucket of Halloween candy over the carpet to inventory.
“Hey, guys! It’s time. Come on,” Rhyett said excitedly. Quinny reached out chubby grabby hands for her daddy, who scooped her up without hesitation. The two of them led the way, leaving Broderick and me to follow their matching blonde noggins.
“Do you think he’ll change his plans once he meets the puppies?” I asked out of the side of my mouth, needing to fill the silence, to cut through the tension between us. Jameson’s plan was to propose to Noel tonight when the entire family—both ours and hers—gathered for Christmas dinner. At this rate, my parents needed to build a big ass barn to accommodate our growing tribe. To my relief, Broderick chuckled, the sound punching through the invisible wall between us and letting the light through.
“My money is on ice skating tonight.”
“No way,” I argued halfheartedly. He was probably right, but it was more fun to play. To pretend, even if just for a moment, that everything was normal between us. “Too cheesy.”
“Bet you five bucks.”
“Deal,” I quipped back, relieved he was humoring me. My mistake was turning to look at him. Fuck me, I missed his lips. The warmth in those eyes, and the smile lines framing them. Three days, and I was breaking apart at the seams, just praying I hid it well.
“Think she’ll say yes?”
I leveled him with a side-eye, only to find his smirk full of mischief. I missed him. God, I missed him. Playing with him, laughing with him. “William and Thatcher would be strange gifts from a woman who wouldn’t,” I pointed out, grinning back at him.
“True. God, I know Noel’s got energy, but two puppies??”
“Best of luck to them both.”
Chuckling, he said, “Really though, I couldn’t be happier for them.”
Nodding, I glanced to where Rhy and Quinny had vanished at the end of the hallway before saying, “No matter what happens, I need you to know I couldn’t be happier for you.”
“What the hell is this?”Broderick asked later that night as he glared at the five-dollar bill in my outstretched hand.
“You bet me he’d propose on the ice rink.”
Laughing, he pulled Thatcher—who had been laying on his back chewing on Broderick’s shoelaces—into his lap. I might’ve been crazy, but between the two brother retrievers, Thatcher had the lighter ears. I sat down beside him to steal some puppy snuggles, but not before tucking the cash into his button-up pocket.
“My ‘never getting married’, ‘forever alone’, ‘unlovable’ big brother proposed to the love of his life on a plastic ice rink tonight.”
Broderick scoffed, his humor palpable as he made a big claw, shaking his hand before coming down over Thatcher’s snout and grinning as the puppy gave his best, most ferocious play growls back before releasing him again. “He did it well.”
“There were tears.”
“For him and for me,” he admitted playfully. I looked back out at the bizarre, orchestrated magic of twinkle lights and enormous gingerbread house beside the striped red and white walls of the rink in question. The image didn’t compute with the sheen of humidity on my bare legs and sweat dripping down the low of my back. Jameson and Noel were still skating in circles over the waxed surface. Nat King Cole played over the loudspeakers, and the scent of peppermint cocoa competed with the savory spices of the Cuban restaurant across the circular park. It was like a Florida themed snow globe, complete with lights wrapped over palm trees, making an undeniable phallic shape.
“Nothing says Christmas spirit like twinkle penises.”
Eyes closed in something like amused resignation, he just shook his head. “Your mouth,” he muttered, clawing Thatcher again. This time, his floppy little ears fanned out like tiny gold wings, eyes comically wide as he nommed on his fingers.
The familiar joke somehow warmed my chest and tightened my airway at the same time. I wanted this to be our normal. Wanted everything to fall into place.
“Think of anything?” I asked, scanning the caramel corn line and finding Pax, Finn, Hads, the twins, and Max. My eyes had just found my parents, Rhyett, Brex and Quinn, across the way on the merry-go-round together when he spoke up.
“I think you’re the most beautiful piece of the sunshine state tonight.” A gust of warm, salty air kicked up, blowing the glittering fake snow over our way. But the pressure of his focus brought my eyes to his. He smiled softly, leaning forward to pluck a snowflake’ off my lashes. “I’m thinking that I’m the luckiest man alive because you let me call you ‘mine’. And there is no happy ending to my story if you’re not at the center.”
Eyes stinging, I held his gaze, until a laugh burst up my throat when he barked, “Hey,” and jerked his hand away from tiny razor puppy teeth. “Little piranha. Just had to ruin the moment?”
“Brod?”
“Yeah?” he asked as Thatcher squealed and backed away from the hand now encircling his mouth. Broderick let him go, but narrowed his eyes when the puppy shot him a disbelieving stare. Evidently, both quick to forgive, the standoff ended as abruptly as it started when disproportionate puppy paws clumsily bound over Broderick’s legs, landing on his lap.
“You wanna get out of here?”
Still working to wrangle the fluffy piranha, his eyes snapped to mine. “Fuck, yes.”
While Broderick returned Thatcher to his new daddy, I walked the perimeter of the market, admiring sweet families as they shared cotton candy the size of my head, or pulled apart cinnamon buns, or climbed up on the merry-go-round. Who knew that admiration and envy could walk hand-in-hand? I wanted that. But where on earth did kids fit amongst book tours and filming schedules?
My phone buzzed, and I fully expected Hads or Noel to be tracking me down, which is why it was so damn strange to see Lionel calling across the screen. What in the hell was my agent doing calling on Christmas?
Determined to find out, I swiped the button and said, “Lionel? Merry Christmas! Everything okay?”
“Merry Christmas is right,” he said, sounding a little bit out of breath and a lot a bit excited. “Are you sitting down? You’ll want to be sitting down.”
“The last time someone said that, Chris was telling me we’d been acquired by the network.”
“Well. The little shit stole my line. But you’re going to thank me for crashing your Christmas.”
Broderick
The broad fanof our headlights spanned over the Main House. Funny, having grown up in what was dubbed ‘the main house’ back in Mistyvale, like a center point where kids and cousins and aunts and uncles all congregated, only to see the home base shift five-thousand miles away. This one was modernized. A nostalgic white farmhouse surrounded in Florida green.
Our music abruptly amputated when the engine turned off, and we sat in ponderous silence for a long beat, just staring through the dark at the house only illuminated via Christmas tree through the oversized living room windows, and fat bulbs that left the wood patio in a golden glow.
“So,” I finally said, breaking the pregnant silence.
“So,” she echoed back.
“Time to make decisions?” I asked, but even my voice gave away my desperation. She nodded and my shoulders slumped. I reached down between the seat and the door, and longed for the days of a pulley lever instead of a button that slowly leaned the seat away from the wheel. “This feels ridiculous.”
She side eyed me, smirking as the seat buzzed, easing back so I could turn to face her. “If it means anything, it also looks ridiculous.”
“Can you imagine this thing in an emergency?” I growled.
“Certainly not going to bust out of a garrote with any kind of efficiency.”
I barked a laugh, shaking my head. She really did just say whatever she was thinking, didn’t she? The best part was, I loved her all the more for it. “Do you regularly escalate to being murdered?”
“Sorry,” she laughed, not looking sorry at all. “I’ve been binging true crime shows this week.”
“Nothing says cozy Christmas bedtime story like serial killers.”
“Exactly.” She unbuckled her belt and turned to sit crisscross in her seat, back pressed against the window. With a timid little shrug, she added, “Kept my mind off of you when I couldn’t sleep.”
“You mean you didn’t just stew in self-loathing for the last seventy-two hours?”
“I would’ve come out of my skin.”
I chuckled, but looked out the window when movement caught my eye. Royal happily trotted across the yard with a rabbit in her wake. Shaking my head at the strangest animal alliance I’d witnessed in person, I found El studying me, half her face in shadow.
“I’m not giving you up,” I stated matter-of-factly.
Her eyes fell to her lap. “I’m moving to New York City.”
An out-of-body kind of buzzing erased our surroundings as her words burrowed into my stomach. My mouth failed. So did my lungs. Say something, some coherent corner of my mind snarled.
“My agent called tonight, and the network took my hesitation as a need to sweeten the deal because they knew we had multiple offers. They can swing a larger budget—not just for me, but for scholarships, equipment, everything—if we re-use a building that they purchased for another project that didn’t make it past the pilot. Already renovated. Historical, so it has the character I wanted. We’ll just need to outfit it.” She paused, looking at me like she was fighting the waves, and I was the only person with a lifeboat. New York. Manhattan. Hell, I’d never even been in Manhattan. Finn lived there, and with Pax in Chicago, at least they put her within visiting range of family. But… I’d never imagined myself in a city, let alone one as savage as New York. When the best response I could muster was my mouth opening and closing twice, she cleared her throat.
“They need me to fly in tonight and sign off.”
“Tonight?” I demanded, doing a crap job at curbing the panic in my voice. “El, it’s Christmas. You think the family isn’t going to flip their collective lid?”
Throat bobbing, El shook her head. “There’s some monster blizzard headed for the city, and they anticipate grounding flights the next few days. I either fly in tonight before it hits, or the storm doesn’t clear out until the end of the week. Network wants a commitment or a refusal, and I can’t blame them. I’ve strung this along for weeks already.”
Voice rough, throat tight, I asked, “You can’t just… sign electronically?”
El sucked down a breath, like she was bracing for backlash. “I want to see it in person before we finalize things. Mara already booked our flights. Pax is going with me.”
“And you just… decided all of this on your own?” The implied ‘without me’ was betrayed by the break in my voice. My mind was running a million miles a minute, the familiar holdover overwhelm creeping in.
“I’m sorry. I… Pax, Mara, and Max all already signed off. They’re waiting on me. And this is the kind of opportunity that can create generational wealth, not only for me, but for the women whose lives we’ll impact. The media attention will bolster my book sales. It’s, overall, just…” Pained eyes—more than a little wild—looked frantically between mine before she clambered over the middle console to straddle my lap. Her hands found my neck, my jaw. Mine automatically settled on her waist. I turned to press a kiss to her palm as she pled her case. “Brod, this is so much more than I ever prayed for. Please understand. Please. I can’t throw away ten years of effort. Mara and I have talked about this forever.”
“I know,” I breathed against her palm, soaking up her warmth. The feeling of her settled on top of me.
“And it’s important to me that you take your time making your next choice. I’ve been working toward this goal for no more time than you have yours. I won’t ask you to throw that away without doing your due diligence and thinking it through.”
“I know, baby. I love you, Pix,” I said, pulling her closer, smiling as she rocked her hips over my groin, “and I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Her lips came down on mine, hard and desperate, cutting off my questions, my protests, the million and one things that I needed to say. Because as urgently as we needed to talk, we needed each other. El immediately went for the buttons of my shirt, popping the first three apart until she could slide under it, a breathy, contented hum purring in her chest when she found my chest bare.
“Perks of southern heat,” I muttered as my hands went for her naked thighs beneath the scrap of a dress she’d taunted me with all day. Each touch, each pull of her lips and scrape of fingers became laced with both need and the kind of care I would never articulate in all my years.
I loved her. This fierce, independent, relentless, brash woman. I poured that reality into each stroke up her thigh and over her hip, each clash of teeth and graze of our lips.
“Bed?” she panted, and I nodded against her, reaching to unlatch the door, and kicking it open in the next beat. She yelped when I scooped her up and out of the SUV with me, landing on my feet and kissing her all the way across the yard to the unlocked back door.
“Gonna make a habit of carrying me around?” she teased.
“Until we go gray, baby.” Maybe if I just kept saying it, she’d get the picture. There was no quit once we started this. She might want me to take time, but I’d already made my choices. Her. I chose her. The moment I touched her in Vegas, I’d made my choice. The universe was just testing it.
Yeah, there’d be a transition period before I could respectfully leave home, but she could ask a million times and the answer would stay the same. For now though, I just needed to hold onto her. Honor her choices. Let her process. Or at least that’s what I gathered from her books.
We bumped into a corner or two, but I got to the room she was staying in before settling her on her feet. She turned, pushing the unlatched door open, only to stop so abruptly I walked into her back.
“Now, what the fuck?” she muttered, canting her head. I craned around the doorframe to spot Royal, happily sleeping with three fucking rabbits curled up against her warmth. “In the goddamned house?”
Panting, dick straining against my zipper, I looked around, snatched her wrist, and yanked her inside the hall bathroom.
“Close enough?” I muttered.
“God, yes,” she breathed back, shutting the door behind us.
“Come here,” I demanded, hands settling around her hips to pull her in front of the vanity. “I want to see you, baby.”
She nodded incoherently as I bent her over the counter, her hands flying out to brace herself. “I’ve been dying to flip this skirt over your hips all day,” I said as I did just that, giving her shapely ass a light smack, and loving the way it halted her breath.
“Good,” she gasped. “I’ve been dying to touch you.”
I spied the wet spot on that silky excuse for underwear and smiled at her in the mirror. “Wet for me already, baby?”
She arched a brow, eyes dropping to my blatant erection in the mirror before countering, “Hard for me already, babe?”
Grinning, I yanked apart my belt buckle, followed by the button and zipper of my slacks. “All you gotta do is smile at me, and I’ll be ready, El.” I shook my head as I freed my aching cock. “Touch me like that—tell me you want me—you can bet I’m dying to make you scream, baby.”
“Then do it,” she challenged, pulling out that bravado that undid me entirely. With no further delay, I slid aside her red thong, running the crown of my dick up her wet slit. Her eyes slid closed where I watched her in the mirror, mouth falling open as I repeated the motion, giving her clit a hard tap before lining up and thrusting home, her body somehow fighting me and welcoming me all at once. That hot, wet channel gripped me without mercy. Her lungs filled in one hard breath as mine faltered. As though I’d granted her the air in my lungs in one abrupt motion. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Eyes flying wide, she locked her gaze on me in the mirror.
“I love you,” I said, watching the emotions shift over her face like a rapid-fire strobe.
“I love you,” she repeated. There was no lead up this time. No foreplay or teasing. I went straight for the devastation I needed from her, needing to see her come undone around my cock, body melting under my hands.
Palms roamed. My thrusts quickened, and she cried out my name like a prayer in the air between us.
“You’re mine, Elora Rhodes. At the end of this life, that’s all that fucking matters to me. Do you hear me?” I growled, pistoning into her, my pace growing punishing. This was a claiming. A declaration of intent. She couldn’t just run off making all the decisions for us alone. She was my girl. My world. And I’d find a way to prove it to her. There was the dull thud of what I assumed was Royal jumping off the bed. But the world was fuzzy beyond my need for her. Beyond the warm slide of my palm over her hip and slap of skin against skin. The wet sound of her body pulling me in.
“Yes!” she cried out, and I clamped a hand over that pretty mouth just in case, the other tightening my hold on her waist as my hips snapped forward.
Buried deep, bottomed out at the end of her, I held steady, our eyes locked. “Then stop making decisions for both of us. Give me a chance to figure this out. Because the only future worth living in is one where I have time to worship every inch of you. Understand?” She nodded against my palm. “Good girl. Now fucking come for me, baby.”
Her walls fluttered around my cock when I returned to that punishing pace, release barreling for us both. But right as we tumbled over that edge together, the door flew open, the room filling with hall light.
A frantic, feminine yelp proceeded a screeched, “Oh my god! Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” The door slammed shut, but not before I caught a flash of red hair and wide brown eyes. I’d barely pulled out, El’s dress pouring back over her hips as she lunged for the door. Yanking my pants up, I rushed to follow. But El was hauling Noel back inside and kicking the door closed while she pinned her up against the wall with a hand over her mouth.
“Noel,” she said with a disconcerting level of calm. “You can’t say anything.”