Shy looked at her then to his uncle. “They aren’t, another visit.”
Then, without looking at either of them again, he walked right the fuck out.
* * *
He rode home feeling something he didn’t get, something he hadn’t felt, not once, not in sixteen years.
He realized what it was when he got to Tab’s apartment and saw her electric blue car shining in the streetlamps illuminating the parking lot.
He felt free.
The feeling was overpowering, suffusing him, forcing everything else out and allowing him nothing but that.
Feeling free.
Fucking free.
He swung off his bike, jogged to the stairs, took them two at a time and turned the handle on the door. He knew by the light coming out the bottom it wouldn’t be locked.
It wasn’t.
He walked in and saw her curled into herself on the couch.
She shot to her feet the instant she saw him. Her eyes on him, her expression concerned, cautious, even scared, she whispered, “Shy.”
He closed the door, turned, locked it, and then turned back to her.
Free.
He was free.
He thought his brothers gave him that, and they did.
At the same time, they didn’t.
True freedom came from Tabby.
He stalked toward her.
“Bedroom,” he growled. “Take your clothes off on your way.”
Her body jerked but other than that she didn’t move.
He rounded the armchair, positioning to herd her to get her on her way to where he wanted her to go, and when he was a foot away, she stumbled then started backing up.
“Bedroom and clothes off, Tabby.”
“Shy, I… what…?” Her head tipped to the side as he rounded her wide and changed her direction, aiming her down the hall. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“You aren’t taking your clothes off.”
She licked her lip and Jesus, he was hanging on by a thread.
“Clothes, Tabby,” he growled, rounding her wide again to move her to the bedroom.
He moved her through the bedroom doorway and she stopped when the backs of her legs hit bed.
Shy stopped too.
She held his gaze.
Then she said, “I love you.”
Only then did she whip her shirt off.
Shy drew in a breath, he closed his eyes, opened them, tossed the bag with his mother’s earrings to the foot of the bed, yanked his own tee off, and then he lunged, taking her to her back in the bed.
He didn’t hesitate to take her mouth.
Then he didn’t hesitate to take her.
He did not waste time getting rid of their clothes and then he used his hands, mouth, tongue, teeth, knees, thighs, everything he had, to take everything he could get.
He didn’t have to take it, she gave it.
He took it anyway.
It didn’t take long before he was ready, she was fucking ready, he knew because she was panting so he yanked her up, moved her, shifted on his knees, slammed her back to the headboard and surged inside.
His dick sheathed in her tight, slick, hot silk. Connected to Tabby.
Fuck, always, always, gorgeous.
Her arms and legs rounded him, his hand moved up her side, up her arm, pulling it away from him, finding her hand, and he shoved his thumb in the palm, wrapped his fingers around the back and pressed their hands to the wall.
His eyes were locked to hers and he was moving inside her.
“Just like the first time,” he murmured against her mouth.
“Yes,” she breathed.
“Do you love me, Tabby?”
“Yes,” she again breathed.
“I know you do, baby, fuck, I know you do,” he muttered, then took her mouth, took her cunt, took her there. She cried out her orgasm, driving it down his throat as her pussy convulsed around his dick, then he shoved his face in her neck and groaned his climax against her skin.
He stayed that way, planted deep, his body pressing hers to the headboard, his hand holding hers, her other limbs tight around him, holding her close. He kept his face in her neck, smelling her skin, her hair, and he didn’t say anything.
Slowly, he pulled out, liking the little mew she gave that sounded sweet in his ear as she lost him. He moved back, set her on the bed. Reaching out an arm, he grabbed the bag.
“Shy?” she called but he didn’t answer. He dug into the bag.
He pulled out a box, flipped it open, flipped it closed, and dropped it in the bag. He did this again and again until he found a pair of diamonds.
He gently flung the bag to the nightstand, carefully freed the earrings from the box and flung that aside too.
“Shy?”
“Got earrings in, honey?”
Her head jerked on the pillow, her eyes were curious, confused and cautious, maybe still a little scared but she shook her head.
“Pull your hair back,” he ordered.
She did as he asked as Shy settled on her body, careful to brace on an elbow even as his hands moved to her earlobe. He slid the post through her ear then slid the back on. He moved to the other side and did the same. Then he got up on a forearm on either side of her and looked down, his eyes moving side to side, the diamonds twinkling against her glossy, dark hair.
“Shy, darlin’, talk to me,” she pleaded.
He looked at her. “Those are my mother’s earrings.”
Her body tensed under him as her thighs pressed into his hips.
“Went to my aunt and uncle’s house tonight, got ’em,” he went on. “All of them. Dad gave a pair to Mom every Christmas since they were married. Fourteen pairs. Seven for you, seven for Landon. I picked those for you. Lan picks the next pair. We’ll go back and forth until we each got our piece of our parents.”
Her eyes were brimming with tears, her nostrils flaring with the effort to contain them as she asked, “You went to your aunt and uncle’s?”
“First time in years, last time for forever.” He watched as she lifted a hand to touch the gem at her ear. “Diamonds,” he finished.
A tear she couldn’t hold back slid out the side of her eye.
“Are you mad at me?” she asked so quietly he barely heard.
But he heard.
“Was,” he told her, saw her lips tremble then moved close, his hand going to cup the side of her head, his thumb sliding down her hairline and ending, pad to her earring. “Was also wrong,” he told her gently. “Feelin’ too much, knowin’ he was found. Lost it, took that shit out on you. Shouldn’t have done it but I had so much shit coursin’ through me, baby, I had to get it out. So I piled it on you.”
“Okay,” she said quietly.
“It wasn’t cool, Tabby,” he replied just as quietly.
“It’s okay,” she told him, her hands hitting his chest, pressing in.
“No, it isn’t. What it is is done. I hope to God I learn from makin’ that mistake, freakin’ you out, scaring you”—his thumb moved through the wetness at her temple and his voice dropped—“makin’ you cry. Can’t promise I won’t do it again but I can promise to try.”
“I’m glad you promised, honey, but you also need to know that I understand. That was a lot to handle. I didn’t expect you to be surprised by it. I expected I’d get to tell you about what I’d done going to Lee. But I do understand why you reacted the way you did, and I’ve gotta be there to help you deal when life lands a sucker punch, even if it’s me who unintentionally landed it.”
“That’s cool, baby, that’s sweet and you’re right. But when you do that, you do not have to take my shit. And you did what you did to give me something beautiful. I didn’t get it at the time. I didn’t get it until it was all done and I was sittin’ outside this apartment. You didn’t land a sucker punch, and I don’t want you thinkin’ that shit.”
She held his eyes a couple of beats before she nodded and took in a breath that broke in the middl
e.
“I get it, sugar. You wanted me to have it,” he said gently. “I have it. You gave it to me, but you gave me something else too.”
Her wet eyes stayed on him and she murmured, “Pardon?”
“Closure. Freedom.”
Her eyes closed, he felt her chest heave and tears slid out both sides. Shy shifted his other forearm up so he could put both thumbs to work.
She drew in another breath and opened her eyes.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked.
“Broke the circle,” he answered.
“What does that mean?” she went on cautiously.
“Means I beat the shit out of him, found out he had family, found out how he killed my parents, found I wanted his life in return and found I didn’t want to be in a circle of vengeance. Didn’t want to drag you in. Didn’t want to be in your bed, touchin’ you, blood on my hands.” He paused, his eyes looking into hers and he shared, “My brothers took my back and helped me find the way.”
She got him, he knew when her entire face wobbled as she tried to hold back tears, then she lifted her head and pressed it into the skin of his neck when she failed.
Shy dropped his weight on her, rolled, curving his arms around her and taking her with him so they were on their sides.
She yanked her face out of his neck, took two hitched breaths and asked brokenly, “Are you… are you all right?”
“Best I’ve been in a long time, baby.”
She took another uneven breath as her eyes moved over his face. Then she nodded.
“You gave me that, Tabby,” he reminded her, and she gave him another wobbly smile she couldn’t quite pull off.
“That’s what I was goin’ for,” she told him.
He grinned at her and pulled her closer.
His grin faded and he admitted, “I was a dick again.”
“I’ll forgive you sooner this time, like, say—” her hand slid up so her fingers could stroke his jaw “—now.”
His lips twitched. “It’d help for me to know I got your forgiveness, you quit cryin’.”
She nodded, breathed deep, and got it together.
“Are you…” she hesitated “… good with the Club?”
It was Shy’s turn to nod.
“Good,” she said softly, ducked her face, and shoved it in his throat.
He dipped his chin and against her hair, murmured, “Gotta clean you up then I gotta call Lan.”
“Okay.”
He kissed her hair, rolled her to her back, moved in to kiss her chest then the underside of her jaw, then he met her eyes, gave her a smile, and rolled out of bed.
He got a washcloth and took care of his girl. He took the washcloth back, grabbed his jeans, tagged his phone, and joined her in bed.
She snuggled closer.
He called his brother.
Shy told Lan the story, not leaving anything out, which meant Tabby heard the story. She pressed closer and closer as he talked but she didn’t make a sound.
When he was done, Lan asked, “Tab’s wearin’ Mom’s earrings?”
“Yeah,” Shy answered.
“Fuck, man,” a pause then low, rough and fragmented, “fuck.”
Shy gave him a few beats then asked low, “You okay?”
Landon cleared his throat. “Forgot about those. Totally blocked ’em out. Cannot believe you got them. Cannot believe I forgot them.” He was silent a moment then he said, “Glad you got them back, Park. Fuck me, so fuckin’ glad you got Mom and Dad back from that bitch.”
“Next time you come up, we’ll divvy them out.”
“Right, works for me.”
Neither brother spoke for a long time. They also didn’t break their connection.
Tabby burrowed closer.
Finally, Shy announced. “It’s done.”
“Done,” Lan agreed.
“Over,” Shy went on.
“Now we can move on,” Lan replied.
Shy tightened his arm around Tabby and repeated, “Now we can move on.”
“You know I love you, Parker, and that shit runs deep,” Lan told him.
“Feel the same, Landon.”
“Never forgot what we had, still miss it,” Lan shared.
“Then do what I’m doin’, Lan, and rebuild it.”
There was silence, a short chuckle, and then finally, “Not sure I’m done havin’ fun.”
Shy tipped his chin down to see the top of Tabby’s head, her profile, her eyes open staring at his throat, her hand at his chest, fingers drifting aimlessly but soothingly, giving him time with his brother but not giving him space, something at that moment he did not need.
“That’s your problem, brother, you don’t get that this side is a fuckuva lot more fun,” he returned.
“Take a little somethin’ special to convince me of that,” Lan retorted.
“God, I hope you find it,” Shy replied.
Lan was silent, then Shy got a quiet “Me too, Park.”
They let that hang, then Shy said, “Lettin’ you go.”
“Right. I’ll find some time to come up for a weekend.”
“Cool, see you then.”
“Yeah… and Park?”
“Yeah?”
“You did right, you did good, now they can rest easy.”
They can rest easy.
Shy felt his throat close so he had to force through it, “Yeah.”
“See you in a coupla weeks.”
“Later, Lan.”
“Later, brother.”
He touched his thumb to the screen, twisted just enough to throw his phone on the nightstand, then reached out to turn off the light and rolled into Tabby.
She snuggled closer, hitching her leg back over his hip, her arm winding tight around him.
“You good?” he asked into the dark.
He felt her nod then she asked, “How you feelin’, honey?”
He thought about her question and the answer was fucked. It made no sense. He had a woman wrapped around him, trapping him to a bed. He was facing a mortgage payment. He had plans to plant babies inside her, build a family.
Still, there was only one answer and he dipped his chin, put his lips to her hair, and whispered that answer into her hair.
“Free.”
At his answer, his girl, his gorgeous girl, pressed even closer.
Shy Cage never dreamed a dream.
Still, he knew, without a doubt since he was holding one in his arms, dreams were real.
Chapter Nineteen
Tightrope
Four months later…
“How were they?” Tyra asked in a whisper, running her finger lightly along a sleeping Cutter’s cheek as he lay in bed.
“Exhausting,” I replied. She turned her head and smiled at me, unrepentant that her two offspring were hellions.
Then she looked back down to Cutter and pulled the covers up to his shoulder. “Like you and Rush, they both got their dad’s hair, so I know where they got their temperament.”
I was glad they got Dad’s temperament along with his hair, though both of them had Tyra’s green eyes. If either of them added Tyra’s hair and the temperament that came with it with some of Dad thrown in, we’d be screwed.
“Happened again tonight,” I said. Tyra straightened from Cut and looked at me with brows raised, so I went on, “Took them out for dinner and a couple of people commented. They think they belong to Shy and me.” I looked down at my little brother. “Those green eyes, that hair.”
“I see that,” she murmured. I looked to her and grinned before I started moving to the door, Tyra coming with me, saying, “Fun to pretend, though, also time to plan.”
I watched as she carefully closed the door behind her but, at her words, my brows drew together and when she turned from the door and looked at me, she smiled.
“Playing house, honey,” she explained. “You and Shy have been together awhile. You’ve done the living-together thing. You’ve done the holidays-
together thing. You’ve done the buying-the-house together thing. You’ve fought out the buying-a-fridge-together thing. When’s the next step?”
She was not wrong.
With Ty-Ty’s help, I gave Shy and Lan an awesome Christmas. We had a blast. I could tell both men enjoyed it, and the things they enjoyed most were waking up to two overexcited little boys who were in fits that Santa came and, later, sitting down to a huge dinner that tasted great, family all around, food and beer plentiful, conversation free and easy, and laughter coming often.
It was a blessing, they felt it, and neither man hid it.
It was awesome.
As for Shy, I learned he also gave good Christmases. His version of this was handing me my present right in front of everybody, his eyes locked to mine, his lips murmuring, “Every year.”
In the box was a pair of sapphire earrings.
Of course, I burst into tears but luckily, doing that on Christmas with family close meant I got Shy’s arms around me to comfort me, my little brother Cutter crawling into my lap to do the same thing and, not long after, my father bending deep to brush his lips against my hair to do the same thing.
There were tears but that didn’t negate the fact that it… was… fabulous.
Then, just weeks after, Shy and I moved into our new house.
Not long after that, Shy and I had a rip-roarin’ over our purchase of a new fridge. Although the house was great, there were things that needed updating, and one of them was the fridge.
At the store, Shy declared the kitchen was not my domain and therefore he got to say what fridge we bought and he chose a good model, dependable, but it was not deluxe.
In other words, it didn’t crush ice.
I said that bringing him beverages was my domain (which it was—once his behind was on the couch, it didn’t move), so I would be utilizing the fridge as much as him and I wanted the deluxe model that crushed ice.
Shy informed me that we were not going to spend extra money on having the ability to crush ice when we could spend it on something important, like saving up to build on to the garage so he could tinker with his bike there.
In other words, he wanted a man cave, not crushed ice.
I told him that after getting my money back from Lee Nightingale and putting it into outfitting our home, we were balanced partners and we should do something with the money that was balanced, say, a crushed ice mechanism on a deluxe fridge that we both could enjoy.
Own the Wind Page 27
