The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection

by Natasha L. Black

  “No, it’s just your skinny ass looks like it needs a burger or two,” I told him.

  “Yeah, probably,” he said. “Turns out Tibet is not all that big on fast-food restaurants. Not a whole lot of pizza joints, either.”

  I laughed again. “Good to know you did thorough research before going on your spirit quest.”

  He sat down on one of the tall stools at my kitchen island, and I took out a plate of cheese and sausage I liked to keep in the refrigerator to snack on. Adding a box of crackers, I leaned on the other side of the counter and we dug in.

  “So, what are we doing tonight?” he asked after we spent a while catching up and swapping stories about the six months we’d been apart.

  “Actually, I did have an idea. How do you feel about going to a bar for a couple of drinks?” I asked.

  “Sounds good. Are you meeting the crew up there?”

  “Not exactly,” I told him. “Actually, we were invited by a new employee. Her brother just got hired in to, so she wanted to celebrate. She’s bringing a couple of people, and I told her we might stop by. But we don’t have to if it doesn’t sound like something you want to do.”

  “No, that sounds like fun. It doesn’t really sound like something you would do, though,” he pointed out.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I don’t really think of you as the type to go out drinking with your employees unless it’s after a race,” he said. “Who is this girl?”

  “Her name is Merry. She’s the social media consultant,” I explained.

  Cole laughed so hard I thought he might choke on the chunk of cheese he’d just put in his mouth.

  “Social media consultant?” he asked. “You seriously hired a social media consultant? Who the hell are you, and what did you do with my best friend while I was up in the mountains scared out of my mind a yeti was going to eat me?”

  “Mom hired her,” I said, frowning.

  “Well, that sounds more like it. Minnie is definitely the type to try to keep things up-to-date.”

  “Are you trying to say something?” I asked.

  “That you’re an old man stuffed into a 40-year-old body? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m trying to say,” he teased.

  “Very funny. I’m on the cutting-edge now. You can check all the platforms for yourself. The company is on all of them, and they are actually kept current. Thanks to Merry,” I told him.

  Cole instantly called my bluff and pulled out his phone to start scanning through the various postings. His eyes widened, and then he turned the phone so I can look at the screen. There was an image of Merry at the race with Mom, and he pointed at it.

  “Is that her?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s at the first race of the season.”

  “Now I can see why you wanted a social media consultant,” he muttered.

  “It’s not like that,” I told him. “She’s my employee. Just like you said. The only reason I agreed to go out tonight is it was I thought you would like to have some fun after getting home and she wanted to celebrate her brother getting the job. It seemed rude if I turned her down.”

  “All right. If that’s what you’re going to go with, I will join right in with the delusion. Let’s go,” he said.

  The bar was loud and crowded as usual. I wasn’t used to being there when we weren’t blowing off steam after a long week or celebrating a win. It felt a little awkward walking in and realizing I didn’t have the entire company there. It was just about the small group socializing. But I decided not to think about it. I was too happy that Cole was back and just wanted to enjoy it. And if I let myself be honest for a moment, I was looking forward to spending some time with Merry outside of work.

  We eventually found the rest of the group at a large booth in the back corner. I introduced everybody and asked if anybody needed a drink. They all agreed, and I made my way toward the bar. I was already feeling more at ease now that we had settled in. I like Brandon and thought he would be a good addition to the team just like his sister was.

  Ordering a round of drinks, I added an assortment of food and made my way back to the table. Three waitresses showed up just a few moments later with pint glasses and pitchers of beer, then the baskets of food and a stack of plates. We all dove in, and very quickly the night turned into something a college-aged me would be very proud of.

  “Who’s ready for a game of darts?” Merry’s friend Olivia asked.

  “You’re on,” Brandon said, and they made their way over to the dartboard.

  The rest of us followed suit and set up a miniature tournament. It was the first time Merry and I were in close enough proximity to actually speak directly to each other, and I leaned down slightly to her.

  “You’re not some sort of dart hustler, are you?” I asked.

  She looked up at me and laughed.

  “I’m not a dart anything,” she said. “Be prepared to be dazzled by my exceptional lack of skill.”

  She grabbed a handful of darts and stepped out for her turn. Her evaluation of herself was not an understatement. She completely missed the board twice, and the one time she hit it was on the very edge. She twirled around, arms up in the air as if she had just accomplished something amazing, and Olivia laughed, applauding her enthusiastically.

  “That was exceptionally terrible,” I told her when she came back to my side. “But, if you were a hustler, that would be how you would start. So, I still have my eye on you.”

  I tried to ignore the blush that crept up her neck at my words and just how tight my pants had started to feel.

  The rest of the game proved she definitely wasn’t hustling, and by the end of it, we were all laughing and taking back our third round of beer. Cole pointed across the bar to the beer pong table that had been occupied by actual college-age people throughout the entire night. It was suddenly vacant, and we scooted over to claim it. Waitresses came over with more beer to fill the cups, and we positioned ourselves on either end of the table, guys on one side, girls on the other. No one else had ventured out to join us that night, so the teams ended up lopsided: Brandon, Cole, and me on one side, and Olivia and Merry on the other.

  “I’ll be referee,” Brandon offered. “That way it’ll be even.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Merry said.

  “I really should, though. You see, I just got this new job, and I hear my new boss is a real hard-ass,” he said.

  “I don’t know where you heard that,” Merry said, mocking innocence and I had to laugh.

  We played a couple of rounds before Merry and I both headed toward the bathroom. On the way out, I ended up in a crush of people and suddenly got pushed. I didn’t realize she was in front of me until I rammed into her and she turned around to look at me. I reached out to wrap my arms around her and stop us both from falling. The heat of her body was new and exciting, and I didn’t let her go. Instead, I pulled her up closer and walked with her down to the end of the hall where there wasn’t anyone else.

  The next thing I knew, we were kissing. I had her pressed to the wall, her body still close to mine, and my hands around her waist. She looped her arms around my neck and leaned into the kiss, opening her mouth to the guiding pressure of my tongue until it tangled with hers. I never wanted to stop kissing her. But a few seconds later, I heard a familiar voice.

  “Quentin?”

  I looked up and saw Cole standing a few feet away in the hallway. Merry and I quickly disentangled ourselves, and she scurried away back toward the table.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “It’s fine. You ready to go?” I asked.

  Cole had already called a rideshare, and it was waiting for us outside. The entire drive home all I could think about was Merry’s sweet mouth and hot body pressed up against me and wondered if maybe this was the upheaval I’d been anticipating.

  18

  Merry

  I seriously did not want to open my
eyes. In those first couple of moments of not being asleep anymore, but not yet being all the way awake, I could already feel the thudding reminder of the fun I’d had the night before. Eventually, I was going to have to open my eyes to the cruelty of light and awareness, and it was all going to come crashing down onto me.

  Which was going to suck.

  I lay there in bed with my pillow over my head and the blankets pulled up over my shoulders for as long as I possibly could. Finally, I didn’t have any choice but to get up, and the full hangover hit me.

  And it definitely sucked.

  I dragged myself to the bathroom and took a shower, standing under the hot water with the hopes it would do… something. It accomplished little but made me feel less woozy, and I got out, dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a stretchy tank top and headed for the kitchen. The smell of coffee was all the encouragement I needed. There was no work that day, and I intended on doing nothing but setting myself up with a constant drip of the strongest coffee my maker could produce, eating salty fried food, and stretching out on the couch to pray to the gods of reality TV that I’d make it through.

  This wasn’t my first hangover, but I hadn’t had enough in my life to not be a complete sissy when it came to them. I got to the kitchen and found Brandon standing by the coffee maker, the carafe in his hand. Getting my mug from the cabinet, I reached for the pot, but he pulled it away.

  “Morning, sunshine,” he said. “Sleep well?”

  “Give me the coffee, Brandon,” I said. “Hand it over slowly and no one gets hurt.”

  He grinned like an asshole and pulled the pot further away again.

  “You know I didn’t think you had it in you,” he said.

  “What?” I asked in confusion.

  “Having the hots for your boss.” That stopped me. I stared at him, my head tilting to the side.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked.

  “You totally have the hots for your boss,” he said again. “You know, I never really pegged you for that kind of girl. Teacher’s pet, maybe. But not a desk bunny.”

  “First, gross. Second, and I repeat with augmentation, what the hell are you talking about?” I asked.

  He finally put down his guard enough for me to grab the pot of coffee from him and pour myself a cup. I didn’t even bother adding my usual cream and sugar and just downed half of it in one burning, ill-advised gulp.

  “You don’t remember making out with him last night?” Brandon asked.

  I choked and stared at him, wiping the droplets of coffee away from my bottom lip.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  Brandon laughed disbelievingly and took back the coffeepot for his own cup.

  “Seriously?” he asked. “You really don’t remember? How much did you drink?”

  “Well, my team wasn’t very good at beer pong,” I said.

  He laughed again. “Sure. That’s the excuse that we’ll go with.”

  “What happened last night?” I asked. “All I remember is being there with you guys and meeting Quentin’s friend Cole. I know we played darts and beer pong. But all of that is kind of fuzzy. What else happened?”

  “You mean before or after Cole caught you two making out in the hallway by the bathroom?” Brandon asked

  “Oh, no,” I said. “Are you serious? Did that actually happen, or are you just trying it to get a rise out of me?”

  I knew the answer. There was no other reason he would be taunting me for having the hots for my boss. I obviously hadn’t told him about any of the feelings I thought I might be having toward Quentin, and I hadn’t said or done anything to even suggest it as far as I knew.

  “I didn’t see it for myself, but you sure came running back fast, and when Cole came back in because he forgot his wallet and you were back in the bathroom with Olivia, he had a story to tell,” Brandon said.

  I groaned, covering my face with my hands. It wasn’t enough. I wanted to bury my head in some sand somewhere and not come out for a while. But since there was no sand around anywhere, I would have to settle for the couch. Setting my mug down on the counter with a thud, I went into the living room and toppled over face-first onto the cushions.

  “Oh, no. I can’t believe I did that. How could I do that?” I lamented into the pillows.

  “It’s all right,” Brandon said.

  I felt him come to the side of the couch and sit down on the edge of the cushions. He patted my back.

  “No, it’s not,” I said, shaking my head but not lifting it. “I made out with my boss in the back of a grimy bar.”

  “It’s not that grimy of a bar,” he said.

  “Does that make a difference about me making out with him?” I asked.

  “Well, no. I was just trying to make you feel better.”

  “It didn’t work. What the fuck am I going to do?” I asked, the sudden realization that I might have just ruined my career popping up in my mind.

  “Relax, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Chalk it up to a drunken mistake and get over it. If you don’t make a big deal over it, I bet he won’t either,” Brandon said.

  I nodded and then buried my face back in the cushions.

  Brandon laughed and patted me on the back.

  “You made fun of me while I was hungover,” I said, my voice muffled.

  “I know. I’m your big brother, it’s my job. But I’m sorry. How about some breakfast?” he asked.

  Flopping over onto my side and dragging in a breath, I nodded.

  “Something greasy,” I said.

  Brandon smiled, and for a moment I saw my carefree big brother again. I was hoping to see more of him, to really have my brother all the way back soon. He was always going to have some of the quirks—they were just part of him—but I’d like to see him relax some. Working at Freeman could really help that. A less intense work environment could help him feel more comfortable and put him in a better mindset.

  He headed into the kitchen and started cooking as I reached for the remote. Turning on the TV, I found it wasn’t actually morning anymore. I’d managed to sleep my way into the afternoon, and I didn’t feel an ounce bad about it. In fact, I was going to sleep more if I got the chance.

  I’d watched almost a full episode of a delightfully trashy live court show when my brother came back out of the kitchen with a tray heaping with food and a bottle of pain reliever. That marked the beginning of my day not leaving the couch except to go to the bathroom.

  By the time Brandon was cooking dinner, I felt better enough to realized I hadn’t checked in on Olivia yet. According to my brother, she was still at the bar when he’d poured me into the back of a car and brought me home. Since I hadn’t gotten even so much as a text from her, I was starting to worry. Fortunately, the worry was for nothing. She answered in a groggy voice, and I knew she was dealing with the same head full of lead and cotton I was.

  “You doing okay?” I asked.

  “If by okay you mean alive, then yes,” she said.

  “I’ll take it. Brandon tells me you stayed at the bar after we left.”

  “Do you remember the cute bartender?”

  “Vaguely. I mean, I remember there was a bartender. And that you talked to him a lot. So, yeah, I guess,” I said.

  “Well, we just kept flirting and I ended up closing down the place with him,” she told me.

  “Way to go. I’m proud of you, Liv,” I said.

  “I’m proud of you, too. Kissing the sexy boss in the dark bar. More my style, but I like it.”

  “And there it is,” I groaned. “I was really hoping somehow that had missed you.”

  “How could it miss me?” she asked. “You dragged me into the bathroom after he left and told me about it.”

  “I did?” I asked, rubbing my forehead. “Well, at least I was gossiping about myself and you aren’t just teasing me like Brandon.”

  “You have to admit, it’s pretty funny,” Olivia said.

  “No, I don’t. Because it’s not.”

/>   “I think it is,” she said with a giggle.

  “I don’t even remember it. And I’m glad you all find it so amusing, but I’m actually worried I’m going to lose my job because of it,” I told her.

  “Why?”

  “It’s not exactly what he hired me for,” I pointed out.

  We chatted for a bit longer before the pain rushed back into my head, and I got off the phone. While Brandon and I ate, I thought about how I was going to handle going back to work. This wasn’t something I could just pretend didn’t happen like Brandon suggested. Even if he was like me and woke up not realizing what had happened, chances were Quentin had heard the news from Cole. I needed to be prepared to handle this head-on. By the time I crawled into bed that night, I’d worked out a pretty solid conversation to have with Quentin on Monday morning in hopes he wouldn’t fire me for breaking some sort of fraternizing rule.

  19

  Quentin

  Sunday was usually the day I had my brothers and parents over for family night. I normally looked forward all week long to hanging out with them around the fire and catching up. Even though I worked with most of them and talked with Vince and Nick on almost a daily basis, it was still good to just be able to get together and relax every week. But I just couldn’t do it today. It was already early afternoon by the time I managed to pry my eyes open and fight through the headache searing through to the back of my brain. Thankful for the family group text we maintained, I jotted out a quick message to cancel the usual gathering, saying I needed a breather before we started to gear up for the race on Wednesday.

  I knew they would understand. We’d already been pushing so hard, and the days leading up to the race would be even more intense. We’d been putting in more hours, and it would be stressful and tiring, so all of us having a day to just kick back and relax made sense. In reality, I needed to talk to Cole. Though my memory of the night before was fuzzy when I first got up, it didn’t take long for me to remember being in that hallway. I could still feel Merry’s body against mine and taste her kiss.