Chapter 21
Mariah
Titus leads me into his parents’ house exactly like he did a week ago. One hand on my back, his big body staying close to mine.
But everything else about tonight feels very different.
Because that wiggle of hope that worms its way into my life so often has finally managed to tunnel through. And it’s all because of the man carefully removing my coat.
My gaze levels on Titus’s face as he undoes the buttons down my front. “Thank you.”
His green eyes flick to mine, holding a second. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do.” I shiver a little as he slips the wool free, his hands sliding down my arms in a touch that warms way too many parts of me. I cannot go into this night thinking about what happened just a few hours ago on top of the desk in Titus’s office. I’ll stroke out before dessert.
And I made a really good dessert this week.
Titus circles behind me in the coat room, hanging his and mine side-by-side before stepping close, his front barely brushing my back.
“No.” Titus’s voice is low, his breath warm as it caresses my ear. “You don’t.”
Shit. Now I’m thinking of what happened the last time we were in this closet. The way he backed me up against the door and—
“There you two are.” Deidre beams at us as she comes to a stop in the open doorway. “I was starting to get worried.”
I’m carrying a lot of guilt right now concerning Deidre, and hearing she was worried only ads to the pile. “Sorry we’re late.”
I should have thought up an excuse before now. I sure as heck can’t tell her I was barfing in the toilet when we were supposed to leave, because Deidre still doesn’t know I’m pregnant.
Or that her son is renovating his house for me and my baby.
Or that her son and I have been…
Whatever the hell we’ve been doing.
“It was my fault. I got tied up with work.” Titus easily takes the blame, hooking one arm through the handle of the insulated bag holding the cinnamon ice cream I made, and using that same hand to balance the still-warm pan of peach cobbler. “Things are crazy right now.”
Crazy doesn’t begin to describe things right now. Not from my end anyway.
Somehow, instead of coming here and simply doing the job I was hired to do—by Deidre—I’ve ended up accidentally developing feelings for the guy I’m working for and taking over his house as if our futures are already intertwined.
I’ve made a plan with no footing to set it on.
No foundation to keep it from crumbling around me.
So, basically, I’ve done what I always do. Raced two steps ahead into a fantasy world of my own creation, pretending reality isn’t hot on my heels and breathing down my neck.
Deidre gives us a wink. "Crazy isn't always a bad thing." She reaches for me, hooking an arm through mine as she drags me out of the closet and away from Titus.
I glance back over my shoulder, checking to make sure he's okay. I know he loves his family—and that they love him—but he’s lived alone and isolated for years. Even something as familiar as a family dinner is probably a lot for him. Especially considering how loud his freaking family can be.
"Mariah’s here," Deidre announces as she all but drags me into the kitchen.
The rest of Titus’s brothers are circled around the island, just like they were last time.
They’re sneaking bites and stealing tastes of just about everything they can get their hands on, and it makes me smile.
I never had anything like this, but—not so shockingly—I always imagined what it would have been like if I did.
How different holidays would be with a bunch of people milling around, opening presents, joking and telling stories.
I've gotta say, I'm a pretty good imaginer. Because it looked a heck of a lot like this.
Deidre deposits me into one of the stools along the island where I sat my very first day on the property, then goes around to the other side. She starts smacking at grabbing hands and doling out tasks, redirecting her sons’ attention before they manage to eviscerate the glazed ham she's prepared.
Everything about Deidre Bradshaw is impressive, but seeing her be such a good mother might take the cake.
The love she has for each of her sons—even the one she didn't birth—is easy to see. Easy to feel. She passes out affectionate pats and sideways squeezes like she’ll never have too few to give.
Like physical affection isn't a commodity not everyone can afford.
I'm watching her so intently that Titus's low voice in my ear makes me jump.
"What would you like to drink?"
I bring a hand over my racing heart because he genuinely did startle me. "I didn't even hear you coming."
"That's because my brothers are loud as hell." He reaches up, smoothing my hair back behind one shoulder. "We're going to have to give them strict instructions when the baby’s here, or they will derail naptime, and whatever sleep schedule we manage, every time."
He's speaking quietly, but I shift uneasily in my seat because no one here knows I'm pregnant besides Titus, and I'm still not sure how to disclose that information. Especially to his mother.
I feel like a liar. Like I tricked her. Technically, I never told her I wasn't pregnant, but I also didn't mention that I was.
Titus’s hand moves to my face, thumb gently catching my lower lip and pulling it free from where I'm assaulting it with my teeth. "Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine."
As someone who’s told herself the same thing countless times, only to be proven wrong every single one of them, I’m finding it difficult to agree.
"Would you like a sparkling water, Mariah honey?" Deidre is suddenly beside us, her eyes fused to me. "Maybe a limoncello?"
If she thinks the way Titus is touching me is weird, she doesn't show it, and that makes it slightly easier to breathe.
I nod. "That would be fantastic."
"I'll get it." Titus steps away, going to the fridge and leaving me alone with his mother.
Well, not alone, alone. We're still surrounded by his unruly brothers. But they might as well not exist because Deidre is giving me her undivided attention. Must be where Titus gets his extreme focus from.
"How is everything going? Are you enjoying being here with us?"
"Of course." I give her a bright smile. "Dinner smells fantastic, and it's nice to socialize with everybody."
Deidre gives me a pat on the shoulder. "That's good, but I didn't just mean tonight." Her gaze gains intensity. "How are things going living with Titus? I know he can be..."
Attentive? Doting? Generous? Calm and caring?
"Aloof."
That… is not a word I would use to describe him. Yes, he is most assuredly an introvert who requires a lot of quiet time in his house to feel comfortable. But aloof?
No fucking way.
And her incorrect assessment rubs me in such a wrong way that I have a very knee-jerk reaction.
"Titus isn’t aloof. He's just serious and reserved.
" I scoff, because the more I think about it, the wronger it is.
"He is warm and considerate and caring and.
.." My words die off because Deidre is smiling at me.
Like, a lot. Smiling while I'm basically telling her I know her son better than she does.
Chastising her for categorizing him in a way I don't agree with.
"You know what? You're right." She pats me on the shoulder again, but this time her hand lingers, giving it a squeeze. "Titus is caring. He feels deeply, and sometimes that can make his life very difficult."
When she walks away I stare after her, wondering what in the fuck just happened. She went from calling Titus aloof to saying he is caring and that his emotions run deep. Both things are true, but her about-face gives me whiplash.
"What's up, Miss Mariah?" Tobias sidles up next to me, giving me a grin that past me would have eaten up with a spoon. "What did you bring for dessert?"
Discussing food is much more comfortable territory for me, so I relax a little. "I made a peach cobbler and homemade ice cream."
After Titus discovered the order I made for his office, not only did he deposit the exact amount of money I spent into my account, but a countertop ice cream maker showed up the next day.
I've had my eye on one for years, but could never justify the price tag.
How he knew I wanted one is beyond me. I've learned to be very careful about mentioning anything because the second I do, it shows up on our doorstep.
Tobias whistles low. "That sounds amazing." He leans, peering around me. "And explains why my big brother is looking a little thicker than normal."
I turn, following the direction of Tobias's attention to find Titus standing directly behind me. He's glaring at his brother, looking unamused.
"I've gained five pounds, you ass." Titus slides my drink in at my elbow. "And don't act like you can tell."
I peer up at the man hovering close, taking in the sight of him. Maybe he does look a little different. Certainly not heavier, but maybe less pale? A little healthier?
Or I could be imagining things. It is my superpower.
Titus’s hand skims over my side, the touch hidden under the counter where no one else will see it.
His hand rests warm and wide against my body as he raises his voice.
"I thought you were going to ask Mom about finding you a personal chef of your own?
" There's challenge in his voice when he asks, "How is that going? "
Deidre stops what she's doing, her eyes going from Titus to Tobias as one eyebrow slowly lifts. "You're kidding, right?"
Tobias straightens his shoulders, chin lifting in defiance. "Why would I be kidding?" He turns to his mother. "Titus isn’t the only one who works a lot. I might not only eat cereal, but I'm sure as hell not even thinking about the four fucking food groups."
Deidre stares Tobias down before leaning closer, her tone low, words slow when she says, "I am not hiring you a chef, Toby."
Tobias looks affronted, both arms stretching wide. "Why not?"
The room suddenly becomes very quiet, and Titus’s hand flexes against my side, holding tighter as he pulls me back against him. Like he wants to put as much space between me and his brother as possible.
Deidre takes a deep breath that lifts her shoulders, then blows it out before saying, "Because you don't want to live with a woman you barely know, remember?"
Deidre's words seem to land like blows, sending Tobias a step back. His jaw is slack, expression filled with shock. Like he can't believe what his mother just said to him.
I can't help but feel like I'm missing part of the conversation. Like there's a story that would explain why Tobias’s handsome face contorts, hardening in a way that erases the easy-going man I've started to know.
He works his jaw from side to side, like it's taking everything he has to unclench his teeth. Barely shaking his head, a light scoff bursts on the heels of his next exhale. "You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?"
Deidre hasn't even flinched and shows no signs of backing down now. Her voice is strong and steady when she replies. "I don't think I'm the one having issues."
I can almost feel the anger radiating off Tobias and it has me leaning back against Titus’s chest. I'm not afraid of his brother, I just don't love interactions like this.
I like it when people are happy. Smiling and joking around.
This feels too close to what I went through as a child.
The days my mother would manage to get my father to visit and all hell would break loose.
Tobias huffs out a bitter laugh, continuing to shake his head as he slowly turns. "Whatever. I'm outta here."
The silence lingers even after the door slams behind him, hanging in the air until Deidre claps her hands, smile back as she looks around the remaining group. "Who's hungry?"
She grabs the ham and practically shoves it into Walker's hands. "You boys take everything to the table." She's still smiling, but I can recognize a lie when I see it.
Spinning on one heel, she marches away from the group, disappearing from sight as Walker, Tucker, and Trevor carry the food to the table. As they’re getting everything in place, I notice Ted disappear down the same hall his wife did.
I turn to where Titus is still standing behind me. "Is your mom okay?"
"Probably better than Tobias is." Titus turns my stool until I'm facing him. "He doesn't love being reminded of how badly he fucked up."
"Does anyone?" I hold tight as Titus takes my hands in his and pulls me off the stool.
He gives me a little smile. "No, but Tobias is extra sensitive about this particular fuck-up." He hooks an arm around my waist, leading me toward the dining room. "If you ever hear someone say the name Brooke in front of him, get the fuck out of there, because all hell is about to break loose."
Yeah. I’m definitely missing a big chunk of the story. A story that must involve a woman named Brooke, and Tobias’s unwillingness to cohabitate.
I'm dying to know everything, but I only have time for one little question, so pick one that might give me insight on Titus as well. "Why didn't Tobias want to live with a woman?"
Titus’s eyes come to my face, holding tight. "Because he's a dumb ass."
His immediate and unwavering reply makes something flutter in my belly. And since they’re still too teeny to feel, I know it's not Peanut.
Pulling out a chair, Titus urges me to sit then takes the one beside me.
Deidre and Ted join us a minute later, and conversation picks back up.
I do notice Deidre’s eyes keep drifting to the empty chair at Titus’s other side, and it makes me feel bad for her.
I can't imagine what it would be like to mother five grown men, but I don’t suppose it would be easy.
Especially these particular five grown men. They sure seem like they’d give you a run for your money.