Chapter 13
Chase: Is that what I think it is?
Pepper: A dart board with your face on it? Yes, yes it is.
Chase: Why would you send me a picture of that?
Pepper: Just wanted you to know that I’m thinking of you.
Pepper: *Whilst throwing darts at your nose*
Chase: If you want me to participate in a little stress relief, all you have to do is ask.
Pepper: I would rather dig out an ingrown hair with a marshmallow rope.
Chase: I’m not sure who that’s meaner to, me or the marshmallow.
CHASE
“My darling brother.” I grin as Mason catches sight of me walking into the cavernous living space of his high-rise penthouse and gives me his signature steely glare.
“I see you came equipped, as always.” Mia beams, skipping over to pluck the magnum of champagne out of my hand.
“Something tells me I’ll need it.” I wink, pulling her into a one-armed hug.
“You’re late,” Mason grumbles, knocking back the contents of his crystal tumbler.
“Nice to see you too, Mace,” I drawl as I jerk my head up in greeting to Zeke at his side.
Mason lets out a deep rumble and turns to fix himself another drink.
I watch for a second, seeing so many of my own features in his stony face.
So many memories. So many disappointments.
He’s familiar and distant all at once. A kernel of resentment flares, but the sound of Mia unwrapping the foil covering the cork draws me away from my inner brooding.
“Where is everyone else?” I clear my throat and peer around at the otherwise empty space, all beige and sleek glass, but I can hear a small girlish giggle drifting through from the dining room in answer.
“Go through, I’ll start bringing stuff in,” Mia says airily as she heads for the kitchen, used to our frosty interactions enough not to bat an eye.
“I’ll help,” Mason says quietly, slipping his arm around her waist as she walks by.
I turn away from them before their mushy-ness steals away my appetite.
Like I said, he’s soft as shit for her and his kids only.
I love them both, but he’s my brother and so I’m not exactly queuing up to watch them eye fuck each other any time soon.
Zeke appears, holding a freshly poured scotch out to me with an amused smile on his face.
“Thanks.” I sigh, taking a sip of the stringent liquid as we head for the dining room.
“Did you see the article about Lewis Roche?” He tips his head, a small smile playing on his scarred mouth as he scratches the dark scruff on his jaw.
“Yeah, I never liked that asshole.” I huff, thinking back to yesterday’s front-page news.
“I’m sure this city will be just fine with one less slimy investment banker,” Zeke agrees. “Rumor has it that it was Incognito who exposed him.”
“The vigilante hacking group?” I run a palm down my jaw, considering the possibility. It does strike me as their style, considering they target criminals. Unbeknownst to Wall Street, Roche had been running a Ponzi scheme for the past decade.
Incognito have been all over the scene for the past couple of years, outing politicians’ dirty secrets and stealing information.
No one knows who they are, and likely never will.
I can’t say I’m mad at their work, and I’m damn glad I’m not the type to be up to anything nefarious.
Otherwise, I might have found myself on the receiving end.
“Yeah, don’t mention them in front of Chloe, whatever you do. She’s obsessed.”
I snort into my glass. “They’re probably spotty-nosed teenagers.”
“Yeah, probably.” Zeke chuckles. “Good for them, though.”
“Uncle Chase!” I can’t see where the noise comes from to begin with when we enter the dining room, but soon enough the chair closest to us is shuffled forward and a small mass of dark hair and a yellow sundress barrels for us from beneath the table.
“Hey kiddo, how is it going?” I laugh, ruffling my hand through Macey’s hair as she clings to my leg.
“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want kids, Chase? You’re like kiddie catnip.” Chloe grins slyly from a seat on the other side of the table, her fiery red hair framing her face like a flaming halo.
Everyone assumes I don’t want kids, but I’ve never actually said that.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want them right now, but I don’t want to close myself off to the possibility of it someday in the future.
Although that means I would have to find someone I actually want to have kids with first. And that feels more far flung than the kid part.
Zeke takes his seat beside her and slings an arm around the back of her chair, smiling at their babbling baby girl sitting in his wife’s lap. “Nah, he’s destined to be the creepy uncle who perves on all our kids’ friends when they turn eighteen.”
“That’s outrageous!” I feign shock and pry Macey’s hands gently off my leg, allowing a beat to pass before speaking again. “I’d wait until they were at least twenty-one.” I shoot a wink to Zeke and Chloe’s six-year-old son, Diego, who rewards me with a shy smile.
The table breaks out into noisy laughter and I join in as I slide my scotch onto the glossy mahogany surface and scoop Macey up. I take her with me as I sit down in a spare seat, placing her on my lap because I know if I don’t, she will crawl up of her own accord anyway.
“Good to see you, Coach.” I grin at Teddy, who is tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear opposite me.
Teddy is a coach for the New York Yankees, which is how she met and married my best friend Jax, who sits happily at her side in his trademark hoodie and cap combo. Jax is the star batter for the team and a total sucker for his wife. Which is par for the course with this group.
“We’re overdue for pool yoga and meditation.” She winks, her cheeks rosy.
This is basically just code for drinking tequila and sunbathing. Something we do from time to time.
“Sorry, what?” Chloe cuts in with raised brows as Jax groans softly in exasperation.
“Don’t get jealous, Red, but I’m seeing other wives on the side.” I roll one shoulder sheepishly and grin.
“You’re seeing all the wives on the side,” Zeke grumbles, but the corner of his mouth twitches with humor.
“You’ll always be my favorite, kiddo.” I wink at Chloe, who giggles.
“What about me?” Mia cuts in as she enters the room, her arms laden with dishes.
“You’re spoken for,” Mason growls as he follows behind her.
I glance down at a beaming Macey. “There is enough of Uncle Chase to go ’round, isn’t there, kid?”
She nods eagerly, her pudgy hand landing on my chin.
“Stop roping my daughter into your schemes,” Mason says curtly as he slides his hands under her arms and lifts her gently off me.
“What is schemes, Daddy?” I hear her ask as he tucks her into his chest and carries her away to her seat, smiling as I hear his low rumble explain it patiently to her.
I never thought Mason would settle down and have kids. None of us did, but he’s taken to it like a duck to water. It’s a world apart from the reclusive bachelor persona he hid behind for so many years. I’m happy for him, even if he wouldn’t care what I feel either way.
“What, the international supermodel couldn’t grace us with her presence?” I ask, finding Mia’s gaze as she plonks a white baby monitor down on the table in front of her.
“Emily has a date, but she said she would swing by later.” Mia slides into her seat.
Well, they do say the best way to get over one is to get under another. Hopefully it works. I don’t like the thought of my baby sister hurting after some arrogant model jackass. She deserves so much better than that.
“I’m told I will like her a lot.” Chloe clicks her tongue contemplatively, picking up her glass of wine.
I groan quietly, pressing my forefinger and thumb into my eyes. I hadn’t even considered Emily and Chloe meeting for the first time. They’re both bat-shit crazy enough for this to be a cataclysmic event.
“Oh, you will.” Mia chuckles. “I know we don’t usually say grace, but maybe we should send up a quick prayer that the twins nap long enough for us to enjoy a meal.” She eyes the monitor as a faint crackle comes through.
“I’ll get them if they wake,” Mason murmurs quietly, closing his hand over hers on top of the table.
She smiles at him and I’m just about to crack a joke about praying to the fella downstairs instead of the lord above—seems as he spawned the twins—when a high voice rings through from the living space.
“Party’s here!”
We all turn to watch as Emily breezes in wearing white flared trousers and a red T-shirt that has built-in gloves.
She looks like she’s wearing part of one of those nylon morphe suits.
Plonking herself down into the seat next to me without preamble, she lets out a sigh, a slight grimace crossing her face as she eyes up the serving bowls of food in the center of the table.
When everyone has said their hellos and Chloe and Teddy have been introduced to her, I lean over and mutter, “You need to stop drinking that high-fashion Kool Aid.”
“Mommy, bat!” Macey squeals before Emily can do more than roll her eyes.
“Yes darling,” Mia coos absentmindedly as she plates up some mashed potato for her daughter. The soft clink of serving spoons on china rings out as other people start to help themselves to food too, all except my sister. “What happened to your hot date?” she directs curiously at Emily.
“Oh, she wouldn’t stop looking at her phone, so I bailed.” Emily waves a gloved hand dismissively, already reaching for the open bottle of red wine in the center of the table.
“She?” I query, raising my brow at her. I couldn’t give a flying monkey which gender she dates, but this is the first I’ve heard of anything other than men from her.
“Mommy, bat!” Macey yells impatiently, but no one seems to be paying much attention, given the revelation unfolding.
“What can I tell you, brother? Ya girl likes to eat pussy from time to time.” The soft glug of red wine being tipped into her glass accompanies her brash words.