Max scanned the room. “What happened to the plaid?” Before Jack answered, he guessed correctly, “Mom?” He walked over to the chair opposite the desk and dropped into it, even while he patted the side of his thigh for Taren to come.
Jack nodded and had a look around. He took note of the highly polished cherry-wood bookcases lining the walls from floor to ceiling and mentally shrugged. Examining the new paint, which Finley insisted was a taupe color, but he suspected the true tone of it held tinges of peach. Why else wouldn’t the designer share the name of it? Then his eyes fell on the perfectly cut and angled corners of the wainscoting, and his shoulders slumped. Although he’d really liked the blue and yellow plaid wallpaper he and the boys had hung several years ago, he did have to admit that the room now felt more professional, corporate even. When his blue-eyed siren had gotten a gander at the plaid paper plastered on the walls, slightly askew, she’d laughed. She hadn’t even attempted to cajole him into agreeing to change it. No, all she’d said was, ‘this is so out of here.’ “Yes, your mom.” His dramatic sigh made his son grin. “She’s been busy redecorating.”
“I noticed.” Max’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “I saw the rope cordoning off the bottom half of the basketball court. I take it Mom wasn’t pleased with—”
Jack held up his hand. This was serious shit here and best the deserter know it. “No. You might say she was ready to murder me when she found out that I’d cemented over half of her rose garden. She’s going to tear it up. I told you guys that she’d have a fit. Where’s the support you promised me on this one?”
Max laughed and crossed one leg over the other as he adjusted himself back in the chair. “I’ll talk to her. No, I’ll have Reagan do it,” he quickly amended.
That made him smile. “Clever boy. Send one of the young ones in for the kill. It may work.” He shrugged, then leaned back in the seat, and changed the subject, “So, how did you and Payden make out in Fort Lauderdale? Any progress with Payden’s prospective mate?”
Max dragged a hand through his hair and shook out his dark locks like he was aggravated. “Yes and no. First we had to wait for her to get back from Mexico.”
“I see.”
“Yeah, her father is a religious fanatic on top of everything else.” He made a face, brought his hand down, and explained, “They’re going to be building a church there or something.”
Jack leaned forward and picked up the report he’d had compiled on the family. He spotted the notes about the father’s religious background and pursed his lips. “So you waited and?”
“And when they finally got back, Bernadette had a fiancé.”
“A what?”
“Fiancé,” Payden announced when he entered the room. He didn’t look at either of them, but went directly to the sideboard and poured himself a scotch. The fact that it was only ten o’clock in the morning didn’t seem to bother him. “Anyone care to join me?”
Max shrugged and Jack let out a pent up breath. “Sure, why not?”
Payden turned over two more tumblers and splashed a healthy amount of scotch in each. He picked up the group in one hand and walked over to the desk. “Here, cheers,” he intoned. After handing them out, he downed his in one shot and slammed the empty glass on the desk before collapsing in the chair beside his brother.
Max looked nonplussed, so Jack waited for Payden to feed Taren the piece of bacon he pulled out of a pocket, before he asked, “Is it love?” The boys looked at one another like that’s the last thing they were expecting to be asked. When they turned round eyes on him, he clarified. “Is Bernadette in love with him?” He slammed his own glass down and waited for one of them to speak up.
“Of course not. She’s going to be in love with me. I made sure of it.”
Taking note of the affronted look on his oldest son’s face he scowled. “What do you mean by, going to be? Have you made contact with her? You didn’t break my rule about dream seduction, did you?”
This was a sore spot with him. Raising a pack of hyper-horny adolescent males was bad enough at the best of times for any parent, but when these guys had the ability to walk in the dreams of those they desired whenever they wanted to? Well, letting them would be no better than letting a sugar hound sleep in the candy store over a holiday weekend.
“I had to. She needed some kind of recalled memories of me to get this thing cemented.”
Jack huffed out a breath. “All right. Out with it. What the hell have you been doing down there for the past three months?”
Payden sat forward. “I’ve been busting my ass trying to get near her. That father of hers is a real piece of work. And the boyfriend or fiancé or whatever the hell they’re calling him? Love?” Payden scoffed. He grabbed his discarded glass, stood up and stalked over to pour himself another. Over his shoulder, he quipped, “She may think the guy is genuine, but he’s not. Her father, that bastard, sold his own daughter out for the price of a church.” He spun around and leaned against the sideboard. “Why do you think we came home?”
Jack shook his head. “I thought you were down there to get physically close, make a connection that way, and protect her from—”
“Cyrus? It’s too late. They already have the plans in motion to kill her on the 20th of next month.”
He looked at Payden first and then to Max. “Did you see him?”
“No,” Payden came back and sat down. “He’s a sneaky prick. He had us going with the fiancé deal until I managed to get into the father’s head two nights ago. That man is actually trying to justify his daughter’s death by telling himself that she’s a sacrifice. With her death, he’ll be given the means to build his church down in the Mexican jungle, so he can save the uneducated masses there.”
Jack took a swig of his drink and swallowed. “No luck getting into her thoughts outside of the dreams?” When Payden shook his head, Jack frowned. “If it’s about money, can’t we buy the father’s loyalty?”
Payden shook his head harder. “No, the guy’s been corrupted. There’s a part of his mind I couldn’t reach, just like Bernadette’s. The only way I could reach her was through her dreams. It’s like there’s this wall or something. Cyrus is strong.”
Perfect. He looked from one son to the other. “So, where do we go from here?”
He’d been expecting many things. The two of them wanting his help. Them suggesting they go to the council. Or even one or both of them looking for permission to kill Cyrus. So when the pair of them smiled broadly and Max explained their plan, he tried to hide his pleasant surprise. And as the details began to unfold and the numerous possibilities became apparent, he couldn’t help himself. He beamed. “You two are chips off the old block. Damn, that’s a helluva a good idea.” He was still smiling as he took another mouthful of scotch and turned all they’d outlined over in his mind. There were plenty of holes in this plan if they screwed it up, but that was the point of making a plan. Don’t screw it up and the holes would remain plugged. Yes, the more he thought about it, the better he liked it.
Now, he needed to deal with the one very large fly in the proverbial ointment. “Okay, good job. But,” he paused and leaned over the desk to whisper loudly, “don’t tell your mother.”
“Don’t tell me what?” Finley walked in and stopped short the moment three pairs of jade-colored eyes landed on her. “What?”
“It’s, ah,” Jack cleared his throat and stood. Nodding to their two boys until they took his cue and stood as well. “A surprise.”
Finley looked from one red-faced giant to another. Oh, they were up to something, she was sure of it. She laughed and waved her hand. “Sit down, would you? You guys make me feel like a shrimp.” Payden and Max reseated themselves, but Jack came around the desk and sat back against it. She tried not to narrow her eyes as she went to him. She knew him well enough to know that he was attempting to be nonchalant. With a suspicious grin, she playfully poked him in the stomach. Wincing when the hard muscle poked back. “What’s the surprise?”
“We’re going to the Keys.”
“We are? The Keys, not Fort Lauderdale to meet Payden’s girl? But I haven’t finished redecorating the nursery. Are all of us going? What about the other boys? Are they coming too?” In way of answer, he nodded and smiled, but the expression on his face was tight. Too tight. She’d question him later about that, when the kids weren’t around. “When?”
“In, ah, a couple of days. Payden will inform his brothers.”
Her mind whirled with all that she needed to prepare, as this didn’t leave her much time. She had one more article to get finished for The Sun. Thankfully, she’d decided to do freelance for them. Her first job was a six-part series, five of which she’d already completed, on the subject of the mystery surrounding Jesse Alt. Although she’d decided to write the piece as though he’d suffered a nervous breakdown, she and Jack knew the truth. The guy in Jesse’s fully healed body wasn’t him. She had no idea what had happened to him, but she prayed that he was okay.
“How long are we going to stay? You haven’t forgotten that my mom and Hank are due to arrive in a little over three weeks, have you?”
“No,” this sounded more like a groan, than a word.
“We’re, um, going to go and speak to Wooly,” Payden made the excuse. Both he and Max stood and nearly tripped over Taren in their haste to exit.
“Careful, Tarantino.”
“Just a minute,” Finley called. She turned and saw both her sons stop mid-stride without turning around. They looked like they were playing sneaky statues. “Don’t you have something to tell me?”
The two of them swung around and said in unison, “Huh?”
“Your trip to Fort Lauderdale? Bernadette? Now that she’s gotten a chance to get to know you when can I meet her? Did you discuss a possible wedding date?” Finley had no idea why they exchanged worried looks, but she didn’t like it.
“A wedding date?” Payden repeated. His frantic gaze shot over her head to Jack.
Now she didn’t even try to stop them she let her eyes narrow. “Yes, it’s got to be soon because–”
“Oh yeah, it’s going to be sooner than you think,” Max laughed. “Come on, Payden, Tarantino, we better go find Wooly.”
“Just a minute,” she said again and waited for them to turn. “Why do you call Taren, Tarantino?”
Payden blinked and then smiled so much like Jack she shook her head. But when her son leaned down and positioned the cat’s face so she could see his puss fully, she had her answer. Especially now that they’d gelled the poor thing’s hair so he had a faux-hawk. “He looks like him, doesn’t he?”
Wow, he kind of did, now that they’d pointed it out. “He needs a haircut. I’ll be clipping him tomorrow.”
“Great, we’ll hold him down. No worries.”
Finley watched the trio leave and then spun around to Jack. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t know.” He pulled her up against him and sighed. “The kids these days speak another language.”
“They speak two, Jack. And I’m fluent in both. What’s going on?” She leaned back in his arms and scowled.
“Nothing. Why do you pester him? He’s a man who has a difficult road ahead of him.”
She stepped back, crossed her arms over her chest, and tried to contain her frustration. Jack kept insisting that the boys were men, but to her, they were still her babies. Giant babies, but hers all the same. It seemed that once she’d fully remembered their previous lives together and each boy’s birth and childhood, she couldn’t help this protective and motherly instinct that roared to life within her. “I’m not trying to pester him,” she tried not to sound so defensive, but as the last of his words registered, she frowned. “A difficult road? First claiming is not so bad.” She thought back to their first lifetime together. Oh sure, she’d been a little scared because of the sexual nature of the claiming, but in this day and age, that wouldn’t be a huge problem.
“For us? No. We always had an ancient connection to one another.”
Her hands dropped to her sides and she searched his handsome face. “Have you spoken to him about this?” His brows snapped down so low, they looked like one thick line of black hair. “Well, did you? He needs—”
“He’s a man, for Christ’s sake.” He walked around the desk and took a seat. “He doesn’t need me to, you know. To—”
“Share your vast experience with him?” she finished as she stepped forward and slapped both palms down on it, leaning in. “Of course he needs you to speak to him about this.” When he continued to scowl, she clarified, “I don’t mean about the,” she paused and lowered her voice, “sex stuff. Well, maybe a little of that, but mostly about the emotional end of it. You know, things he could tell her to…” She looked off to the left while she formulated what to say. Turning back, she finished, “to make things easier on her, this first time.” He still wasn’t convinced. “What about mentioning the fact that he’d be wise to hold off for a little while before he sunk his teeth into her?”
Jack grinned so wide there were twin creases at the corners of his eyes. “That’s a great idea.” Satisfied, she started to straighten, but only made it half way when he quipped, “But that would be like telling a naked and horny sixteen-year-old boy in a whore house to look, but don’t touch.”
She gasped. “That’s a horrible analogy.”
“It’s true.”
Stuffing a chunk of her hair behind an ear, she grumbled, “Isn’t there anything you can say that will help him?”
“Come here.” Jack turned in his chair and motioned for her to sit on his lap. “I’ll think of something. I promise.”
She plopped down, complaining, “My heart is just broken that we’ll never have a little girl.” That knowledge was one of the memories of her ancient past that cut deep. It seemed that Cyrus had taken this from their people, too. Jack had explained that this was as the council decreed, but that didn’t make it any less painful. She supposed she could understand their reasoning. How would they control the Vampine population on earth if they gave free rein to procreate both sexes? “I’d be so much better sharing experiences with a girl, than you are with the boys.”
“I know.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and fidgeted with the collar of his shirt. “You smell nice.”
He ignored the compliment and asked, “Are you still mad about your garden?”
She nodded. “I hate basketball.”
He put two fingers under her chin and pulled up until she was looking into his amused eyes. “I don’t recall asking you to play. I had it installed for the boys, remember?”
She rolled her eyes. “How could I forget?”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning.” She sat up and smacked him on the arm. “You pull the boys’ card an awful lot there, buddy. The basketball court, my office turned pool room, the crooked plaid wallpaper—”
“Hey, hey, hey. The wallpaper was their fault.”
“So,” she fell back against him, laughing, as she accused, “you admit the other two were your ideas.”
He blinked and sheepishly looked away. When he looked back down at her, she laughed again as he squeezed her tight and fervently whispered in her ear, “I think it’s time I have you admitting a few things. See if I don’t.”
He stood up so abruptly that she squealed, twisted, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Jack Midland. I thought you said you quit. Have you been drinking?” She spotted the empty glass on the table a second before she smelled the proof on his breath.
“I did quit for a while. Funny I had no problem staying away from the bottle until, why,” he looked right at her, “until you got here.”
She was too shocked to speak.
“And yes, I had a drink with my boys. One. Sue me.” He adjusted his arm under her legs and pulled her up against him.
“Really, Jack, I don’t have time for this.” He strode out of the office and down the hall toward their room. �
��What about the kids? Jack.” She squeaked when he jostled and mockingly made a move like he was going to drop her. Oh, he was a demon. He deserved a little stress. “What about the baby?”
That got his immediate attention. He stopped. “Did I hurt you?”
She wanted to lie to him, but couldn’t. “No.” He smiled and took off again. “Jack, really, all of the boys are home.”
“Hang the boys. It’s you I’m after,” he growled against her cheek. “Now, the question becomes what should I have you admit first? Your overwhelming lust for me? Or your love? Hm, I’m going with lust.”
“You wanna know what I’m going with?”
“What?”
“All that I have until you cave and fill me in on what the boys weren’t supposed to tell me.” When he curled down intent on nuzzling her neck she brought her shoulder up and denied him. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You don’t get to do that until you spill.”
He kicked open their door and ducked going through it. “Your plan is to torture me, isn’t it?”
“Yep.”
“Perfect. Where do you want to start?”
“Right here.”
He misstepped and sucked in a breath when she shoved her hand down his leathers and grabbed hold of him, squeezing, but not too tight. “Jesus babe, you keep that up and I’ll be singing like a canary in no time.”
“Better that than a soprano.” She hiked a challenging brow.
Too quickly she realized her attempt at intimidation was a bust as he hooked his foot against the door and pushed. When it slammed shut he chuckled. That lowdown and dirty one she’d come to love. He placed her on the bed and promised, “The only one singing in this room over the next hour is going to be you.”
And he was right. She sang full out a capella in tones ranging from contralto to soprano to finally gasping for breath.
“My beautiful wreck,” he whispered.
“My evasive husband,” she whispered back.
He groaned.
Love Of A Lifetime Page 23
