Falling for Them Volume 3: Reverse Harem Collection

by Amy Sumida

  I take the bowl and place it beside my plate. He’s so sure it’s great that I’ll lie if it’s horrible. Hawk and Ash douse their waffles in amber syrup, and Kent dumps some kind of orange sauce that stings my nose onto his eggs. Phoenix squeezes a red paste on top of his potatoes, and the smell tickles my memory as something I enjoyed as a small girl. Genji doesn’t take any food for himself, but he smiles and heaps more of the eggs onto everyone’s plate.

  “What’s all that stuff you’re putting on your food,” I ask, overwhelmed.

  They freeze and each looks down at what they hold.

  “I keep forgetting how little you know,” Ash murmurs. “We all have our own individual taste preferences, Sugar Plum, and I promise we’ll figure out yours soon enough.” He taps his chin, pondering for a moment before smiling. “Try a bite of everything first, and then you can take a bit off of each of our plates to see if any of it appeals to you.”

  Nodding at his suggestion, I stare down at my own food. The aromas are divine, and I decide to start with the waffle.

  When I take a bite, I love the light crunch that gives way to a warm, soft, fruity center. It’s sweeter than I imagined, and I instantly know I’ll request this again.

  I move onto the eggs and have to work at swallowing them without gagging. The flavor isn’t horrible, but the texture grates on me like nails running up and down my spine.

  “So, not eggs,” Kent chuckles from across the table. I gape at him, wondering how he knew. “Violet, your face is incredibly expressive, and the look you just made was priceless.”

  “And Doc made them,” Ash deadpans.

  As the entire table bursts out in laughter, I dart a worried glance to Genji, who shrugs and laughs with them.

  “I like to cook,” he explains when I don’t join in on their mirth. “But since I don’t eat this stuff, I’m always guessing. They’re kind enough to try it, but I don’t expect you all to eat something inedible!”

  I sigh in relief, but still frown at my plate and try to take another bite.

  Ashton reaches out and places a hand over my mouth before I can put any more eggs in it. “It’s okay if you don’t like them, Sugar Plum. Auntie May makes world-class mushroom risotto, but I can’t stand the stuff. Mushrooms are just about the most disgusting thing to me.” He winks. “I get it.”

  My shoulders relax, and I decide to try something a little more solid in appearance. I grab a strip of bacon and take a small bite. I moan as the taste bursts across my tongue. The smoky, salty, fatty flavor dances around my mouth, and I close my eyes to better focus on this ambrosia. I take a bigger bite and moan again. Several utensils clatter as if dropped. I peel myself out of my bacon-induced stupor and open my eyes to a table full of guys with their mouths hanging open, staring.

  I reluctantly put my bacon back on my plate and glance around in embarrassment. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Kent clears his throat, and several of the guys shift restlessly in their seats.

  Genji recovers first and leans forward, placing his forearms on the table. His eyes dance with barely restrained mirth. “No, Kitten, you didn’t do anything wrong. You just have to understand that us males will sometimes have…visceral…responses to you. Guine, that noise you made, it shot through to each of us.”

  My eyes widen when I realize what he means, and my cheeks instantly heat to about a thousand degrees. He nods at my understanding, and several of the guys blush as well.

  “Damn, Sunshine. That was hot.” Phoenix winks at me and the tension flees. We all laugh when he quips, “Guess she likes bacon.”

  I’m a huge fan of breakfast now that it’s not oatmeal, and bacon might be one of the best things I’ve discovered since my escape. Declan promised me I could have it every morning if I wanted, and that he’d teach me how to cook as soon as we had the time.

  As we clear the table of dishes, Kent turns conversation toward the needs of the day. “Hawk, take Guine, and get her measured for a whole assortment of weapons. Consult with Nix, and see that you two get her outfitted. She’s okay using our castoffs for now, but she needs weapons tailored specifically for her.”

  I’m still daydreaming about food when Phoenix snaps his fingers in front of my face and takes the plate hanging limply from my fingertips.

  “You with us, Sunshine?” he jokes as I blink rapidly.

  I push visions of blueberry waffles and syrup to the back of my mind for now. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  He laughs and tosses the plate to Ash, who catches it midair and carries it off to the kitchen. “I asked if you were ready to go and get geared up.”

  I nod and snatch the last piece of bacon from the table before Declan can get it.

  “She’s going to give you a run for your money, Dec,” Hawk laughs, punching him in the shoulder.

  The Irishman pouts, and I grin around my mouthful of heaven, mumbling a garbled, “Shorry, buf if’s shoooo nummy!”

  He rolls his eyes and I catch the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile, betraying the glare he tries to pull off. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Now get your pretty arse to the armory before I decide to teach you a lesson about getting between a man and his food.”

  I grin as Phoenix throws me over his shoulder and skips toward the stairwell, the essence of bacon coating my mouth and Declan’s grin at our position burrowing into my soul.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After struggling gets me nothing more than a swat on the thigh, I relax and enjoy the ride. I glance down at Phoenix’s firm backside and smile.

  At least the view’s nice.

  “You know I’m not a sack of flour, right?” I mock growl.

  “You most certainly aren’t,” he sings, swinging me forward into a cradle across his front. “You’re my Sunshine!”

  He laughs and whistles his sunshine song, bouncing me with every step. His infectious mood causes my heart to soar. No longer dangling over his shoulder, I gaze at his face to study his features. The unusual mixture of reds in his hair fascinates me. It’s as though fire runs in his veins and bleeds out into his eyes and hair. His amber gaze beams as he continues to sing happily, and I notice the top left side of his right iris is actually green.

  “Your eyes are beautiful,” I blurt out.

  Phoenix stops mid-stride and glances at me in consideration. My face burns, and he smirks.

  “Beautiful?” He tilts his head, thinking it through, before he grins. “I’ll take it. I’d have preferred something more like ‘ruggedly handsome’, or ‘mesmerizing’, but”—his voice drops to a deep husk—“I like that you’re looking.”

  The heat from earlier infuses my entire body, connecting us in an intimate bond that pulls us closer until there’s barely a breath of space between us. His two-toned eyes light up with an inner flame, and when he licks his lips, I feel like I might spontaneously combust.

  The moment breaks when the door at the base of the stairwell bangs open.

  “What’s taking you two so long?” Hawk hollers. “I’ve got to get my measurements yesterday if I’m going to get anything done!”

  I take advantage of the distraction and swing my legs out of Phoenix’s grip, my feet landing on the stair below me. My knees give an uncharacteristic wobble, and I absentmindedly place a hand on his chest to steady myself.

  “Sorry.” My hand retracts as I remember he doesn’t like to be touched.

  When I chance a peek up one last time, I blink in surprise at the vulnerability I see. He grabs my fingers and deliberately places them back over his heart, which races beneath my palm. He takes a shallow breath, and I smile.

  He clears his throat. “Let’s get down there before Hawk makes you a battle-axe!”

  Since he doesn’t mention our moment, neither do I, but I can feel it changing me, the way he reaches out for my touch now. His trust is helping shape who I want to become. I want to be someone worthy of him and his faith in me.

  “Hurry up!” Hawk shouts, and Phoenix rolls his ey
es, slinging his arm around my shoulders. Laughing, we race down the stairs, and he guides me through the labyrinth with ease.

  We enter a cavernous room through a nondescript brown door, and the sheer size of it has my mind wandering into calculations of dimensions and area. Math was always one of the subjects I excelled in.

  “How far does the underground reach?” I ask.

  Phoenix winks. “Stay on my good side and maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

  I childishly stick my tongue out, and he responds by crossing his eyes and blowing out his cheeks. I giggle, but stop when it echoes.

  This room is notably warmer, and the slate colored walls slope outward and up, making the room more of a dome than anything else. A leather couch sits off to one side, and a metal worktable fills the center of the room. The lighting is dimmer than the other rooms, and it startles me when Hawk steps out of the shadows.

  “Took you long enough.” He grabs me by the wrist and pulls me over to the table. His abrasive grip hurts, and I yank my arm away. He glares and mutters something under his breath I’m sure I wasn’t supposed to catch. “…asshole...wasting my time…”

  My temper flares. “I’m so sorry to be inconveniencing you,” I sneer at his retreating back.

  He whips around, fury written across his face, and stomps up to me. “What did you say?” he hisses through clenched teeth. He looms over me, trying to use his size for intimidation.

  “What’s your problem?” I screech, pushing him away and crossing my arms.

  His chest rises and falls as he huffs like a raging bull, and it takes a considerable amount of willpower not to bait him.

  Phoenix steps between us and sighs dramatically. His stern focus narrows on Hawk and he holds his hand up. “Back off,” he orders before turning his head toward me. His expression melts back into the jovial smile he wore in the stairwell, lifting my mood instantly. “He’s pissed he won’t get to play with the prisoners, Sunshine. Cut him some slack.” Phoenix smiles to take the sting out of his words. “Interrogations are Hawk’s favorite thing on the planet besides sweets, and he’s going to be stuck in here at his forge for hours trying to get things finished before we resume our search for the missing women.”

  I look past Phoenix and Hawk grunts. My temper backs off, and I’m left with just compassion.

  “Sorry, Hawk. I don’t mean to pull you away from what you really want to be doing.” I step around Phoenix with a smile. “I can keep using the borrowed weapons. They’re great, and only require a little adjustment. I don’t want to create more work for anyone.”

  The tension eases out of his posture, and he regards me with warmth radiating from his hickory eyes. “It’s alright, love. You need your own gear.”

  I scrunch my nose at the term, and he laughs. He takes me by the hand, much gentler this time, and leads me to the back wall, which I now realize is a giant weapons rack.

  “You made all of these?” I gasp, ghosting my fingertips over the exquisite craftsmanship.

  “It’s nothing, really.” The corners of his lips lift in pride.

  I narrow my eyes, astonished to realize he’s blushing.

  Phoenix claps him on the shoulder and grins. “Don’t downplay your talent. Your work is incredible!”

  My eyes zero in on the intricate filigree detail on one of the pikes. “He’s right, Hawk. This is breathtaking.”

  The smile blossoming across his face is a sight to see. The weight of his secrets lifts from him, and he finally looks like Ashton’s twin.

  He clears his throat, and reaches past me for a sleek quarterstaff. “Give this a try, and I’ll make notes of the dimensions that feel most comfortable.”

  And like that, we’re off. A whirlwind of weapons are placed in my hands, measurements are taken, and a variety of small details are recorded for purposes beyond my comprehension. Phoenix disappears halfway through and doesn’t return.

  When we finally finish with the parade of weaponry, I slump onto the black leather sofa and drink deeply from the water Hawk hands me. He takes a seat beside me.

  “How’d you learn to do all of this?” Awed, I wave my hand toward the rack of weapons on the far wall.

  Hawk stays silent long enough to make me assume he chose not to answer. I take another deep pull from the cool water, and he cracks his knuckles.

  “Ash told you about our past?” He pats my leg, and I nod in verification. “Good. That’s less for me to screw up.”

  He leans forward to put his elbows on his knees. Lost in introspection, he stares at the concrete floor. “You know how Ash acted over our separation? Auntie says he was hell to be around, but I promise you, the way I responded was worse.”

  His voice catches, and I reach over to place a reassuring hand on his arm. He turns his head and the bleak misery in his eyes makes my heart clench.

  “It tortured him, us being apart, and he took it out on everyone around him. He was horrible, but I did something unforgivable…” his voice trails off, and my mind wanders back to Scarlett lying dead on the kitchen floor. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be worse than murder.

  “It can’t be that bad,” I croak, still mired in my own memories.

  He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his thick, dark hair. “I forgot him.” He pounds his fists against his knees in despair and self-loathing. “My dad took me away to live with him and his new wife, and I forgot Ashton. I forgot Auntie May. I forgot my own damn mother!”

  Hawk jumps to his feet.

  “I was convinced my father’s wife was my mom, and I worshipped the ground she walked on.” He gestures wildly, and I’m not even sure he remembers I’m here. “For years, I forgot I had a brother…forgot I missed him, and I just lived my life as her son. She was a semi-famous artist who worked with metal, and I sat with her day in and day out, learning by her side how to manipulate the materials to my will. I never wanted to be an artist, and she accepted that, helping me forge my first blade. I was six.” The tempo of his steps increases, and his breathing grows ragged. “I was the perfect son, and I have to believe she didn’t know about Ash until later.”

  He stops mid-stride and slowly retakes his seat beside me. His shoulders slump, and a sheen of tears glistens in his eyes.

  “It was around the time I finished my first piece that she started making trips to the donation center. She and my dad fought all the time, and over the next five months, I watched her waste away.” He clamps his eyes shut, as though in physical pain. His voice grows small, like a child’s. “She came to my bedroom one night. She woke me, dragging me to father’s study. She was crying as she pulled out a folder and placed it in my sleepy hands. She kept saying she was sorry, and she didn’t know. I didn’t understand in the moment, but she made me promise to hide the folder from my dad and to find my real family. I swore to obey her, and she held me while sobbing for probably twenty minutes. Afterwards, she locked me in my room, telling me she loved me.”

  Hawks lips move silently for a moment, and I wrap my arms around him in a tight hug.

  “A few minutes after she locked the door, she and my father were shouting. Then I heard the gunshot. Seconds later, he was pounding on my door, screaming it was all my fault she was gone. He ranted for over an hour about me being the reason she was dead, and that I was his biggest mistake. I was terrified, and hid in my closet, clutching the folder to my chest until morning. At that point, the house had been silent for hours, but I was afraid to leave my room, afraid of what I knew I’d find.”

  I sob into Hawk’s shoulder, and we desperately cling to one another.

  “As soon as enough daylight came through the window, I opened the folder and read the letter from my mom…my stepmom, that is. A picture of me standing side by side with Ash fluttered out, one she stole from my father’s wallet. She left a letter detailing how she found out about him separating us. After reading that, the memories rushed back, and I knew I had to find my brother. She had found Auntie May’s posts on a forum for missing
children, and included the contact address and a bus ticket in my name. I grabbed a bag and stuffed as much as I could into it, including my weapons, and scrawled a horrible note to my father, disowning him and telling him not to search for me. I knew if I went out through the house, there was a chance I’d find my stepmother’s body. There was no way seven year old me could face that, so I climbed out my window and set off to find Ash.”

  Hawk pulls out of my grip and turns away from me. “I know how horrible it sounds. I’ve never told the whole thing to anyone before. I’m sorry to burden you with it.”

  The hollowness of his voice pulls me out of the sorrow I feel on his behalf. I get up and walk around until I stand in front of him. Crouching, I hold his face between my hands. “Don’t you ever be sorry for sharing yourself with me. I’m sorry you had to go through that. You’re home now, Hawk. You found your family.”

  “But I forgot him,” he whispers.

  I shake my head forcefully and his eyes widen. “No, I don’t think you did. You were three-years-old, and terrified about what was happening. Your toddler brain locked your mother and brother and May up safe so you could survive. You remembered as soon as your new mom wrote about them. You were waiting for someone to tell you it was okay to miss him.” I close my eyes against my own grief. I exhale almost inaudibly. “Forgetting isn’t the worst thing you could’ve done.”

  “Nothing’s worse than forgetting your other half,” he rasps.

  I shake my head and open my eyes. Sadness fills me at his bitterness. He teeters on the edge, and I’m afraid if I don’t do something drastic right now, he’ll break.

  I sit back on my heels and swallow my fear.

  “No, Hawk, believe me when I tell you there are much worse things.” My words escape, barely audible, and his eyes plead for me to ease his guilt before it drives him insane. “I’ve done worse.”