Hold It Close (MacAteer Brothers Book 3)

by ML Nystrom

  I tamped down my irritation. “That was my plan, but after meeting Garrett, that changed. He treats me so well, like I’m the center of his universe. He works hard every day on my inn and other jobs, and when he comes home, all of his attention is on me. From what I’ve seen, all five brothers are busy as all get out. They care about each other and share the load, both with work and family. I love that about them. I think that’s what was lacking in Karl’s and my marriage. We lived separate lives while in the same house. We shared a name, but that was it.”

  The lines on her forehead relaxed. “I didn’t think you and Karl had a bad marriage at first. Hiding an affair as long as he did blows my mind.”

  “Karl and I didn’t have a bad marriage, but it wasn’t a good one either. Something had been missing for a long time, and… well… it just faded away. Finding out about the affair hurt more than it probably should, but ultimately, we’re both better off now. I know I am.”

  “You’re too nice to him. I’d rip Jerry a new asshole and tear him into tiny microscopic pieces if he ever cheated on me, regardless of the circumstances.”

  I had to laugh. The thought of Jerry cheating on her held little to no merit. The man totally devoted himself to his wife and kids. “That will happen never. And as for Garrett and his finances, there are plenty of people who start from scratch more than once.”

  Jodie’s face grew reflective. “Do you think you’ll have that with Garrett?”

  I didn’t hesitate in answering. “Yes, I do. I wasn’t expecting to find someone like him here. I certainly wasn’t looking for it. Call it fate, karma, whatever, but somehow we found each other right when we needed to.”

  “Well, I just hope he treats you well. I want you to be happy, little sister.”

  I looked around the room at the waning crowd. Connor and Beverly stood side by side, his arm around her shoulders holding her close. Rhyleigh talked to them, her hands moving rapidly with her words. A few women poked through the clothes on display, and two more stood at the front desk signing up for classes. “I am happy.”

  Twenty-Three

  I bent over into a folded pose and stretch out my arms to touch my fingertips to my toes. I looked over at Jodie and grinned, as this was a big accomplishment for me. I hadn’t been able to do this at all when I first started coming to the classes. I felt more limber and better about myself now. Part of my good mood might be the comradery of the women I’d met through yoga here at the Y. Part of it could be the stress reduction in my life. Part of it was definitely the daily orgasms I got from Garrett.

  As a morning person, he usually started the day by making love to me. I started out being very self-conscious about bedhead, morning breath, and bleary eyes, but as we got more and more secure in our relationship, I let my worries go. He certainly didn’t have any hesitations. I’d even started sleeping naked like he did so we had no clothing barriers to deal with when we woke up.

  Nights became our experiment time. True to his word, he got a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs and used them on me. He found my toy and used both on me for one delicious evening. Turnabout is only fair, and I cuffed him down to tease him with my mouth and ride him when he begged for release. No matter how we played or when we came together, he never failed to tell me he loved me. I marveled over and over again how much of a fool Joy was. Garrett may not be rich with money, but he gave me everything he had.

  “Abby ready for her driving test yet?” Melanie’s question broke through my reverie about Garrett’s stamina.

  Beverly pushed to get another inch forward with her arms. She didn’t quite reach her toes. Yet. “I hope so. She says she is. Connor says she needs more time, but I think he may be a little overprotective.” She sat up and took a big breath. “She’s saving her summer job money for a car. I’m afraid she has a reality check coming. She wants a sporty, classic convertible type like a Carmen Ghia, but will probably end up with the old beige high-mileage Buick.”

  Melanie grimaced and shifted to an upward facing dog pose. “Why the old Buick? And beige? Yuck.”

  “One word. Teenage drivers’ insurance.”

  “That’s three words.”

  “You get my point.”

  Melanie blew a raspberry at Beverly. Beverly responded by grunting “PITA” at her while shifting to another stretchy pose.

  “Don’t forget to breathe, ladies,” Rhyleigh called out from her position at the head of the class. I looked at her lithe body as she balanced in dolphin pose and lifted one leg straight up behind her. Grrr! She made it look so easy.

  “What’s happening on the college front? Abby thinking about it yet?” Melanie took a big breath and blew it out as she flattened into a plank.

  “Only every other minute.” Beverly’s face turned red as she planked herself to match Melanie. “She wants Duke, but again, she’ll have to deal with reality. Duke is a great school; however Abby has neither the grades, the SAT scores, nor the money to go there. She does not want to go to UNCA right here even though it’s the most affordable of the North Carolina universities. She could live at home, which would save a butt ton of money.”

  She relaxed on her mat and sighed. “Connor and I agree that it’s probably best she goes to a school where she has to live in a dorm, do her own laundry, get herself up and scheduled for the day, that sort of thing. There’s a lot of growing up in college that happens beyond classes and skills. Abby needs that, and she won’t get it if she is still living with us.”

  “You still have two more years to get her ready.”

  Beverly shot Melanie the stink eye. “Have you met my eldest daughter? I tried to teach her how to cook Swedish meatballs, and she spent the entire time telling me how gross it was. She will do laundry under protest and still thinks stuffing all her belongings under the bed counts as cleaning her room.”

  Melanie laughed and relaxed as well. “She can always find a man who can cook. I’m such a disaster in the kitchen, Owen won’t let me near it. I do the laundry and cleanup, though.”

  I tried to ape Rhyleigh’s pose, and something crackled in my back. “If Abby wants summer work, I can probably use her. I’ll need some help with housekeeping at the inn. No cooking, as I plan to do that myself, but maybe some kitchen cleanup duties. Think she’d be interested?”

  Beverly sat up and crossed her legs for another stretch. “That would be awesome. I’ll ask her and see what she says.”

  “Send her by sometime next week, and I’ll talk to her.”

  Jodie rolled over and shook out her arms. “Damn, I left my water bottle in the car. Be right back.”

  I sat back and picked up my own water bottle. A few chunks of ice floated and clanked against the steel. “We should have some of these made for when we open the Yoga Spot, either for sale or for giveaways. Sign up for a class and get a personal water bottle.” I rattled my hand. “Environmentally friendly, too.”

  Rhyleigh smiled and twisted herself into a contortion that would snap my spine in half if I tried it.

  Jodie ran back into the studio, her eyes frantic. “Oh my God, Bertie! Your car!”

  “What?”

  “Someone vandalized it.”

  Rhyleigh’s smile dropped. “Did someone scratch it on accident? I had a mark on one of my doors where the person next to me open theirs too quickly.”

  Jodie shook her head, displacing her topknot. “No accident. Yours is the only car that’s been touched, and whoever did it took some time. This is bad. We need to call the police and get it reported.”

  The entire class emptied from the Y to the parking lot. Gasps of incredulity sounded all around me as I surveyed the damage. All four tires on my Audi were flat. Not just flat, but cut. The knife lying near the front of my car appeared to be the instrument of destruction. Tires I could handle, but the words carved into the side sent cold shards down my back.

  Bitch showed scratched into the red paint in multiple places on my car. Cunt glared right next to it. Eat shit had been started, or as least
I assumed that was the intention. The scratches read Eat sh, and I guessed whoever used my car as a canvas got interrupted. Probably when Jodie came out earlier than expected from class or another member came into the parking lot.

  No one else’s vehicle being trashed meant someone had targeted me directly. Someone had followed me here and hated me. A lot.

  Jodie came to the same conclusion. “Oh my God, Bertie.” She moved next to me and put her arms around me in her protective sisterly way. “Who the hell would do this to you?”

  Good question. The memory of the dark figure that loomed over the embankment at the wreck came to the forefront of my mind along with the fear it inspired. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I fished it out. Garrett’s name flashed on the screen.

  “Hey, sweetheart. Patrick, Angus, and I are heading over to Gallaghers’ for a bit. Class is over by now. You want to come by?”

  “I can’t. My car….” I froze, overwhelmed by my racing thoughts.

  “What about your car?”

  “It’s hurt.”

  “What do you mean, it’s hurt? You just got it. Something wrong?”

  “Can you come get me?”

  “Talk to me, Bertie. I’m on my way.”

  Jodie grabbed the phone from my shaking hand. “Garrett? It’s bad. Some asshole trashed her car. I bet it was that Funky Tom guy. The one who has a problem with women.” She nodded at whatever Garrett said. “Right, see you in a few.”

  She clicked off and handed the phone back to me. “I called already. The police are on their way but will take some time. They consider this ‘non-emergency.’” She held up her hands and flicked her fingers in air quotes. “Hmph. I think it’s emergency enough.”

  Garrett’s truck pulled up with a second one right behind it. He jumped out, and the slam of the door reverberated in the parking lot. Patrick and Angus joined the group standing and staring at the red Audi.

  “Holy fucking hell, brother. Someone’s got it bad for your woman.” A grim tone replaced the usual playfulness in Patrick’s voice. “This shit’s serious.”

  Angus moved to stand next to Rhyleigh and took the opportunity to place his arm around her waist.

  Garrett came to me and wrapped me in his warm, secure embrace. “I’m here, baby. Anyone see what happened? Someone hanging around the parking lot before class? This is a busy place. Someone had to have seen something.”

  “Not that I can remember.”

  “How ’bout security cameras?”

  “I’m pretty sure those are only on CSI and Criminal Minds TV shows. I doubt the Y has them.”

  “Jodie told me she thinks Funky Tom did it. Sloane said he’s been holed up at his mom’s place, but a few bar customers saw him lurking outside of Gallaghers’. You think he might have done this?”

  “I don’t know. He used those words on my car at me the night he got himself banned. I guess it could be him, but it seems more personal than that.”

  Patrick started taking pictures. “Best get all this recorded. You’ll need to call about insurance and all that happy garbage. Fuck me sideways.”

  “I can’t believe this is happening.” Rhyleigh wrung her hands and leaned into Angus. He stayed silent but took her slight weight.

  “You heard from Karl lately?”

  I looked up at Garrett’s hard face. “You don’t think he had anything to do with this, do you?”

  “He wasn’t too happy with you when you chose me over him. I don’t know the man. Would he get mad enough to mess with you?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. But then again, I’ve never heard him cuss like he did when he came here. He’s never been vindictive before.”

  “He’s never been without you either, and he’s hurting. Hurt people can be dangerous people. You had a soda dumped on you at the movie theater. You got run off the road and injured. I’m thinking your oil tank had help when it sprang that leak just after an inspection and fill. Now this shit.”

  “What about Joy? Your ex-fiancée made a lot of threats during her impromptu visit. Is she capable?”

  “Could be. I think she would go after me first, but she might have figured out she can get to me by fucking with you.”

  A few Y patrons gawked the parking lot sight as they exited the building and examined their own cars for damage. A police car pulled in and took everyone’s statements.

  “If I were a betting person, my money would be on that Funky Tom.” Jodie sniffed, her arms crossed and her mouth screwed up in disgust.

  “I think it’s Karl,” one of the yoga class members added. “On TV, the ex-husband is always the culprit.”

  “Nope. Gotta be the ex-fiancée.” Another person joined in. “Ever seen an episode of Bridezilla? Them bitches is crazy as hell.”

  “My life has become a game of Clue,” I stated to the officer.

  He grinned and flipped his book closed. “Not much to go on, I’m afraid. Might get prints off the knife. We’ll make a case file and see what happens. I’ll pay a visit to this Funky Tom person and see what he has to say.”

  “What about those other incidents?” Garrett asked.

  The officer shook his head and sighed. “Flimsy, but suspicious. Might be related, but that’s gonna be hard to prove. Not a bad idea to sleep with one eye open for a bit.”

  A tow truck came and hauled away my car.

  By the time everyone spoke to me and wished me well, the hour was late. I felt drained emotionally and physically. Garrett’s drawn face said the same. Even Pal seemed subdued as he greeted us from the porch when we arrived at the cottage.

  Garrett opened the door and shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe no one saw anything. One way or another, this is going to get done.”

  We got ready for bed, him showering off his workday and me washing and moisturizing my face. The temperature in the mountains dropped at night and the cottage was colder than I liked. Garrett adjusted the thermostat for me and muttered something about new insulation as he joined me in the bed.

  His warm body spooned mine as he pressed in close. “Love you, Bernadette.”

  Precious three words.

  I shifted to face him and slid over to straddle his hard body. My mouth found his in the dark. “Love you too, Garrett. What did your doctor’s report say? I saw the envelope on the counter earlier.”

  “I’m one hundred percent safe and healthy.”

  “Good.” I slipped my hand over his abs to find the prize already waiting for me. He groaned as I stroked his hardening length.

  “Ah, Bertie. Thought you’d be too tired, sweetheart.”

  “Never too tired for you.”

  His hands came to my hips, and I drew the head through my wet folds and into my opening. He pushed up and pulled down, filling me to the hilt. Ungloved for the first time. Flesh to flesh. It was glorious.

  I sat up and leaned back to ride him. Out here, the dark was absolute, with only the pale moonlight streaming through the window to break it up. I saw the outline of his body and the glitter of his eyes as he drove up inside me while I ground down on him. He lifted his hand to put his thumb in his mouth then bring it to my pulsing clit, stroking it in time with his thrusts. I let out a cry at the dual sensations.

  “That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it, baby.”

  My orgasm hit me, and I let go. It wasn’t as intense as others he’d given me, but it was long. The pleasure kept going as I rode it out on Garrett’s hard dick. It peaked again when he came inside me, clutching my hips and yelling out his own satisfaction.

  I collapsed on his chest. Both of us were breathing heavy. I kissed him lightly and smiled against his lips. “I’ll be right back. One thing’s for sure, the condoms gave us easier cleanup.”

  He chuckled as I moved off him to take care of business in the bathroom.

  I settled back in bed and Garrett once again spooned me.

  “Love you, babe.”

  “Love you, too.”

  The figure dropped the n
ightvision scope when the woman came out of the bathroom. The sex show couldn’t have been seen by anyone from the road—or field for that matter—unless they had such a device. Watching Bertie climb on top and fuck Garrett caused waves of anger to well up until it threatened to choke.

  “Fucking slut.”

  The message on the car obviously had not been taken seriously.

  “Think you can get away with this? You’re fucking wrong.”

  Twenty-Four

  April moved rapidly toward May, and spring burst with color. I spent hours clearing debris and dead weeds from the flower beds that bordered the farmhouse. My work paid off as scores of bright daylilies sprouted, and I took a huge number of pictures for the website.

  I sat outside on the front porch with a pile of folding papers to enjoy the afternoon sun and to watch Pal explore. My goal was to fold several hundred cranes for swag at the open house scheduled two weeks from today. I had time, but I still worried over the details. The beds were made, decorations in place, bathrooms stocked, menus prepared, orders filled. The opening included food, tours, and a glimpse of the next development phases. Garrett had the forest escape puzzles designed and plans posted of what that activity would look like. Construction for the pool had begun. If it stayed on schedule, it should be about three quarters finished by the open house date.

  I folded the paper square in half and ran my finger along the edge to make a crease. If this event proved to be successful, perhaps we’d do it on an annual basis. We could add in craft vendors, food stalls, some local bands, and other spring festival stuff.

  My phone chirped from the top of the paper stack as I made the next fold.

  Garrett: The job is taking longer than expected. Owen’s table saw blade broke, and we had to get a new one. Instead of cooking, want me to pick up something?

  Me: Ribs from 12 Bones?