Thirty
Linc
The entire flight and drive from the airstrip to Hughes Farm, and not one fucking word about the dentist stopping by. I’d waited it out. Given her time. But even while Stevie played with the toys she had chosen to bring with her, Branwen said nothing. I’d wanted to watch her and try to read her expressions, but keeping my eyes off her was the only way I could manage to not think about the other night. When I thought about it, I began craving her cunt again. I was like an addict that had his first hit after years of being clean.
I’d thought I had it all under control until I saw the damn security video of the dentist and heard the shit he was saying to her. He wasn’t going to let her go easy. I would need to step in and make sure he didn’t show up again. This wasn’t just about Stevie anymore. It was also Branwen’s cunt. He wasn’t getting near it. No one was. But me. The thought of someone else having it made me want to go on a murderous spree. I might not like her, but, goddamn, that body belonged to me. I’d have it when I wanted it. She would put up a fight, but if I talked to her just right, she became real agreeable.
When we drove under the archway that read Hughes Farm , I couldn’t stop myself from glancing over at Branwen. My thoughts had been centered on Levi meeting Stevie when I chose to bring them here instead of him and his wife, Aspen coming to us. I hadn’t considered Branwen’s reaction to being back after all these years.
A small smile played across her lips as we passed the stables.
“I see hawses! Look, Mommy!” Stevie exclaimed, pointing toward the window.
Branwen nodded and took a deep breath. “Yeah, baby, I see them,” she replied softly and turned her head away.
I heard the sniffle she was trying to hide. Fuck.
“You can wyde hawses, can’t you, Mommy?” Stevie’s voice was full of pride.
“Yes,” she said in a shaky voice.
I was real close to unbuckling her and pulling her into my arms. The fact that she’d basically lied to me by not telling me about the dentist’s visit seemed almost trivial at the moment. I knew she was remembering. The last time she’d been here. My hands fisted. Dammit. I should have thought about that.
“See the big house, Mommy?” Stevie asked.
Branwen smiled, her eyes shimmering, as she nodded, but didn’t speak.
“It’s pwetty.”
“It is,” she agreed.
“Are you okay?” I asked, and she tensed.
Her eyes shifted to mine, and she stared at me as if my asking her that was confusing.
“Yes,” she said, but her voice gave away her emotion.
When the car stopped, she reached up and wiped at her eyes, sniffed, and then straightened her stance. Seeing her transform so quickly and hide her emotions made me pause. She was good at that. Too good. She knew how to hide her hurt. I didn’t know women who could do that. Most wanted the attention.
The door to my right opened, and I stepped out as Branwen leaned over to unbuckle Stevie. I nodded my head to Six, one of the members in the family who Garrett used as security. Stevie had been fascinated with his tattoos and piercings when she saw him waiting by the Escalade when we disembarked from the plane.
Stevie’s blonde head peeked out, and I held a hand out for her to take before she jumped down.
“It is weally big,” she said, staring up at the Hugheses’ mansion while continuing to keep her hand in mine.
Branwen followed her, and the skirt she was wearing had ridden up. Long, tanned legs for fucking miles stepped down, and I tore my gaze off them, only to catch Six’s attention being where mine had been. When I cleared my throat, his eyes snapped up, and he stiffened.
“I’ll have the luggage brought in and sent to your rooms,” he informed me.
I gave him a pointed look. He knew what it meant. Keep his eyes to himself. Or at least off Branwen. I waited for her to move up beside me, but when she stayed a step behind, I almost started up the stairs with Stevie when I remembered Six and decided Branwen would go in front of us. Six didn’t need a view of her ass.
“Go ahead,” I told her.
She looked unsure, but finally moved in front of Stevie and me to climb the wide steps that led up to the Hugheses’ mansion. When we reached the top, she veered over to the side, not wanting to be the one to ring the doorbell apparently.
Stevie was bubbling with energy as she bounced on her feet. With the hand that she wasn’t clinging to, I rang the bell.
It had been a few months since I’d been here. Garrett had eased up on his command, and Blaise was in complete control. When we met, it was in Blaise’s office at his house or at Huck’s motorcycle repair shop.
When the door swung open, Ms. Jimmie—Garrett Hughes’s cook and head of house staff—opened the door. Her bright smile went from me to Stevie.
“Oh Mylanta! What a doll!” she said, bending down to look at Stevie, and then she glanced over at Branwen. “Good Lord in heaven, did you grow up to be a raving beauty,” she said with a gentleness to her voice.
It seemed Garrett had already informed her of just who was coming with me.
Branwen’s smile made her jade eyes shine. “Hello, Ms. Jimmie. You haven’t aged a day.”
Ms. Jimmie waved a hand. “Oh, I know better. These Hughes men have aged me a thousand years. But thank goodness they’re settled and happy now. Just takes the right woman,” she said, her eyes swinging back to lock on me.
Then, she looked back to Stevie. “You’re the spitting image of your momma as a little girl,” she told her. “Well, that is, if Demeter had known how to tame all those curls.”
At the mention of her father’s name, I tensed, and my eyes flew to her face, but a soft laugh drifted past her full lips.
“Daddy never could get my hair right,” she agreed.
“My dad?” Stevie asked with her head tilted back, frowning at her mother.
Branwen shook her head. “No, sweetie. My dad. He worked here, down at those stables with all the horses you saw. I used to play down there all summer, after school, and on weekends while he worked.”
Stevie’s small mouth opened in surprise. “Weally?”
“Yes.”
Stevie’s eyes swung over to me. “Did you know my mommy used to play hewah? At youah fwiend’s stables?”
“He knew all right. Wasn’t a soul on this property that didn’t know your momma’s favorite was your dad. She was as little as you and would follow him everywhere. It was sweet as could be,” Ms. Jimmie informed her.
“He’s my favowite too!” she stated with pride and squeezed my hand tighter.
Ms. Jimmie looked back at me. “Seems he’s a lucky man.”
All right, Ms. Jimmie. Enough of memory lane and making this something it isn’t.
It seemed Garrett had left out the part where my daughter had been kept from me and Branwen had tried to make someone else her dad.
“Is Garrett here?” I asked, ready to move this along.
“Yes. He and Fawn are out back. They’re expecting you. You know the way. I’ll make sure your luggage is taken to your rooms.”
“Thank you,” I told her, then glanced over at Branwen. “This way.”
As we walked through the home, taking the east hallway since it bypassed more—and with Stevie’s curiosity, we’d never make it to the patio before nightfall—I worked on putting the memories of that girl back in the corner of my mind, where they belonged. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She wasn’t sweet and innocent. Me feeling anything other than lust and detachment from her was dangerous. I couldn’t trust her.
When we reached the tall glass doors leading onto the back patio, Stevie let go of my hand and rushed outside. This wasn’t the side where the pool was, but rather the side where they entertained. I followed her out, not looking back for Branwen. She was a big girl and could manage.
They’d gotten new furniture for out here since I’d seen it last. There was a large U-shaped sofa with plush cream cushions that sat at least a dozen people. In front of it was a table that looked like it was made of stacked slabs of stone. It held a silver pitcher, glasses, several trays of finger foods, and two glasses of whiskey. The flat screen television that he’d had out here had turned into three. One hanging over the white stone fireplace and the other two on the back side of the house. The sofa was placed so that all three were easy to view.
I heard the sounds of a race and knew there wasn’t a race happening today—at least that Hughes Farm had a horse in—so that meant he was watching a race that had already happened.
Garrett was in the center of the sofa with Fawn sitting across his lap. They looked to be kissing or talking with their faces very close to each other. Garrett’s hand was gripping her ass. I cleared my throat loudly. I doubted he wanted me to get a glimpse of his wife’s asscheek, and the way he was pulling her dress up, it looked like I just might.
He stopped and began to smooth the fabric back into place as she straightened. She snapped her head around, looking like a thoroughly kissed woman, and then a smile broke across her face.
“I see them!” Stevie called out, pointing over to the sofa.
Smirking, I raised an eyebrow at Garrett as Fawn stood up, and his gaze found me. An amused look made his mouth quirk, but his attention shifted immediately to Branwen. The pleased expression as he stood annoyed me. Why was it that he seemed to not see what she had done to me?