Chapter seventeen
Juan decided to enjoy the casual evening gathering rather than question when the easiness of it would end.
Rather than question when the hard part of transitioning Zoe to her new family would kick in or when Amber would experience her first frustration at not doing something right or not knowing something a “mother” would know.
Those times would no doubt come; they had for Monk and Kendall, and Kendall could verbalize her emotions.
Tonight, though, he made himself remember that all they had for certain was this moment.
And choice. He could choose to enjoy it or to worry.
It wasn’t in his nature to not worry, but for Amber and Zoe, he’d try.
He sipped his beer as Leo tossed a horseshoe.
On the grass, Charley and Juliana were teaching Zoe how to throw a stick for Sherman.
The dog either had endless patience or no brain cells and greeted Zoe’s one-foot throws with the same toe-tapping excitement as Charley’s much longer ones.
Amber stood nearby watching, a smile on her face.
The others were scattered around, all fifteen of them and their partners, except Helia, who’d be up for good soon.
Clara sat at a table with Adrian and Dottie.
He hadn’t been sure how the two older women would get along.
Both were strong, both were opinionated, and neither called a spade anything other than a spade.
He shouldn’t have worried, though. The women were birds of a feather, and laughter floated from their table.
“You doing okay?” Einstein asked, coming to his side.
Like him, Scipio, and Hawkeye, he’d bounced around the foster system, too.
The lives of the others in the club had been as violent, just not as…
mobile. The constant moving and lack of stability traumatized the four of them in predictably unpredictable ways.
His tendency to always be waiting for the other shoe to drop hadn’t come from nowhere.
But unlike the others, caregivers, not parents, had been the instruments of violence in their lives.
As an adult, he wasn’t sure which was worse.
A stable roof over your head, but living with the kind of terror only a parent can inflict, or moving around and learning to accept that you could never count on the kindness of strangers.
Or being in the same bed the next day. Both were shit options.
“Trying to enjoy the moment,” he answered Stein’s question, knowing his brother would understand.
“It’s like a scene from a fucking Rockwell painting, isn’t it? Who’d have ever guessed?”
Juan chuckled. “If Norman painted tatted up ex-soldiers who’d been through more than one kind of battle.”
Stein grunted. “Yeah, not exactly his style.”
Zoe squealed with delight when Sherman licked her face. His eyes darted to Amber. Her nose wrinkled, but she didn’t step in. “It’s pretty damn nice, though. Hard to believe we built all this, isn’t it?”
“We didn’t ‘build’ it, we’re building it. Every damn day we decide to be here for each other, for our businesses, for the network.”
Stein’s words rolled around in his head.
They did decide, every day, to be there for one another.
He’d taken that for granted. And as odd as it sounded in his head, he thought that was kind of a good thing.
That this brotherhood had become such a part of him, become something that deep inside him, he trusted wasn’t going anywhere, that he’d relaxed.
He’d come to believe, whether consciously or not, that this would “stick.”
His gaze flickered to Amber.
“You wonder if she’s going to stay a part of it?” Stein asked, going to the heart of it.
“I’m trying not to worry about it. Trying to enjoy the moment, remember.”
Stein chuckled. “I’m thinking if you put in the work, you can enjoy a lot more moments like this. Without the other angst.”
He slid a side-eye glare at his brother. “I don’t angst.”
Stein half rolled his eyes and shook his head, an annoying grin curling his lips.
“Of course you do. We all do. You don’t grow up the way any of us grew up and not have anxiety.
” They paused and watched Zoe toddle closer to the woods, where she promptly stumbled on a root and dropped to her well-padded behind.
She glanced around, as if looking to see who might be paying attention and whether it was worth crying, but Amber moved in, scooping her up and giving her a raspberry on her stomach. Crisis averted, Juan exhaled.
“You know she’s going to cry,” Stein said. “Babies don’t not cry.”
Juan huffed. “I know. I’m still going to hate it, though.”
“You’re already wrapped around her finger.”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know it yet, so let’s keep that to ourselves,” he replied, pulling a laugh from his brother. Amber glanced over, smiled, then took a seat on the grass with Zoe in her lap.
“Make her yours then,” Stein said.
He and Amber hadn’t even had sex yet. The thought of getting married, of adopting Zoe, of becoming a father and of making a family, terrified him in an enticing way.
The steps to get there seemed momentous, almost impossible.
Could he ever be what Amber wanted? What she needed?
Could he be a father? The fleeting thought that he wouldn’t go through it alone crossed his mind.
Philly would be a dad in a few months. He suspected Mantis and Charley wouldn’t be far behind.
That image brought a smile to his face. Who knew the guys he’d literally been in the trenches with, the guys he’d spent days in the desert or jungle puking and shitting their guts out from giardia or some other nasty bacteria with, the guys he’d executed some of the riskiest of operations with, would all be learning how to change diapers together.
“You want it, don’t you?” Stein said.
His instinct shouted at him to deny it. He’d had enough therapy, though, to know that when it came to relationships, his instinct wasn’t great.
Instead of answering right away, he let the panic wash over him, recognizing it for what it was—a scar from his past, not an indicator of his future.
When his pulse slowed and he felt grounded again, then he considered the question.
His eyes traveled to Amber, weaving together dandelions as Zoe watched. Two heads of dark brown hair, four sets of delicate fingers, two matching smiles.
His heart ached, and the part of him that he’d only ever caught glimpses of as a kid reared up. The sliver of his soul that he’d suppressed. The ghost of yearning that as a child, he’d bullied and mocked into silence because it was easier than confronting the pain of his reality.
The part of him that longed for a family of his own.
He wanted it. He wanted it so bad, he could barely breathe. He craved what he never had. Quiet nights and chaotic mornings. Shared smiles and knowing looks. The certainty of being able to disagree, even have a fight, and know it wouldn’t end with someone leaving. Or getting kicked out.
He couldn’t, wouldn’t, deny it. Not when he was staring right at it. Right at them. He wanted it all with Amber. And Zoe.
He nodded, then took a sip of his beer, ignoring the tremor of his hand.
“Then why don’t you go start putting a few more bricks in that foundation,” Stein murmured before walking away.
Amber glanced up at him and smiled. Pulled like a magnet, he walked toward her, then sank to the ground. “So how many more dandelions do we need?”
***
Juan stood in front of Amber’s room getting ready to do something he’d never done before: show up without an express invitation.
He lifted his hand, then paused when his phone dinged. He was digging it out of his pocket when Amber opened the door.
“I thought I heard the chime,” she said with a smile so real he couldn’t help himself. Stepping into the room, he slid his right hand under the fall of her hair and pulled her into a deep, hot kiss as he gently kicked the door closed.
Minutes passed as they stood, sharing each other, enjoying each other, tasting each other. When their lips finally separated, Amber’s eyes were dazed, and a sensual smile played across her face.
“Hello to you, too,” she said, one hand on his chest, the other on his shoulder.
“Hope you don’t mind me stopping by,” he said. Her eyes searched his, and he had an inkling that she recognized something had changed in him.
“That text was me inviting you over,” she replied.
“I got distracted, didn’t have a chance to read it,” he replied, aching for her.
Her gaze dropped, but oddly, the hint of vulnerability only set him more firmly on his path.
“What plans did you have for us last night?” he asked.
Her eyes jerked up. A beat later, pink suffused her cheeks. His heart sank when she stepped back, but he let her go. Reluctantly.
She took another three steps away from him, then untied her cashmere robe.
His breath whooshed out of him as it fell, leaving her in a whisper-thin set of pale green silk pajamas.
A tank top with threadlike straps and a deep vee ending between her breasts.
Shorts so short he wasn’t sure he could even call them that.
If he slid his hand around her thigh, he’d feel the swell of her bottom.
“I don’t know what else you had planned, if anything, but I definitely like this plan,” he said, reaching for her.
He loved kissing her, loved touching her, adored when she touched him back, and the thought of sinking into her, of even the possibility of it, sent a searing heat through his body, lighting it up in a way no one else ever had.
“Is it wrong that meeting Zoe, my baby, makes me want you, want everything from you?” she said more than asked.
“Whatever you want, Amber, it’s yours,” he managed to say, his gaze still drinking her in. Her long legs, the curve of her waist, the hollow of her throat.
“Today was a roller coaster,” she said, stepping toward him. “But a good one. The kind that makes you feel brave.” A hand came up to his waist and slid under his shirt. “Maybe a little reckless, too,” she said, before tipping her head up in invitation.
He didn’t want to be her reckless decision, but he had no issues being the recipient of her brave one. Focusing on the latter rather than the former, he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers.
“How far do you want to take this, Amber?” he asked, his lips brushing hers.
“How far do you?” she countered.
For the tiniest of moments, he considered giving her what she probably expected, a polite reply that the ball was in her court. But if she could be brave, so could he.
“I want to slide these straps off your shoulders and watch them catch on your nipples,” he said, brushing the backs of his fingers over the peaked tips.
“I want to take them in my mouth, suck on them, pull them, roll them until you’re squirming.
Then I want to kiss my way here,” he said, lowering his hand and cupping her through the thin silk between her thighs.
The heat, the damp he felt, ratcheting his need up from a ten to a twenty on a one-to-five scale.
“I want to pull these off you and set my mouth right where my fingers are.” One finger dipped inside.
“I want to make you come with my mouth. I want to feel you on my lips. And when you’ve spent at least twice, when you’re feeling like you can’t take anymore, when your throat is sore from biting back your cries because you don’t want to wake anyone, then I’m going to slide inside you.
Not gently, not tenderly. I’m going to take you hard.
I’m going to drive us both half mad. You’re going to drench my cock with your need, and only when I know you can’t take any more, when I know the pleasure is bordering on too much, will you come again.
And you will. Like you never have before.
And your cries, your body, will close around me and demand the same.
You’ll feel me. You’ll feel me thicken, you’ll hear me swearing, cursing, calling your name.
And then you’ll feel the heat of me. Even through a condom, you’ll feel my body desperately filling yours.
” He paused, her body shaking against his as he sank another finger into her.
“And when we’re done, we’re going to do it all over again. ”