by Kristy Marie
“Thank you.”
Breck’s words are teary sobs that have me groaning and turning around so I can console her. “Cade’s going to be fine,” I assure her.
“I don’t know what he’d do if anything happened to you.”
What?
I push Breck back and hold her by the shoulders. “Have you been drinking?” She chuckles, but I’m serious. “Seriously, B. Did you get some sort of premonition or something? Should I be praying?”
I try for a light tone, but unlike Cade, Breck doesn’t respond to humor in tense conversations.
“He worries about you,” she finally admits. “He worries about all of you.” She buries her face in my shirt, and I let her. “Do you know he checks your doors at night? That he waits at the tree line for Aspen, following behind her until she’s safely in Bennett’s room?”
That fucker. This entire time Jameson could have intercepted Aspen and shoved her back through the window. If he were a decent neighbor, he would have nailed it shut from the outside.
“He thinks he’s some kind of superhero,” I joke.
“I’m serious, Theo. If something ever happened between you two, I don’t know if I would get him back.”
See what I mean? Fucking neighbors.
I sigh and squeeze Breck to my chest. “Nothing is going to happen between us. Trust me, I’ve tried to get rid of your husband more than once.”
Breck punches my arm and chuckles sadly. “I used to think it was me who brought him out of the darkness, but it was you.”
I shake my head. “No. Don’t give me credit I don’t deserve.”
She looks up, meeting my gaze. “Whether or not you believe it, your friendship healed parts of Cade’s soul that I could never mend.”
“I think you’re tired, B.”
“And I think you’re a good man, Theo Von Bremen.”
I squeeze her to my chest. I don’t want to look her in the eye. I’m not a touchy-feely guy. I’ve gotten better since I’ve had my own children, but I’m still known as the resident asshole.
“Help me pry my kid out of your son’s bed,” I beg. Pausing, I think about what I just said. “If I need to say that in ten years, we’ll have a problem.”
Breck laughs and pulls away. “I’ll get her shoes.”
I head to the bed, tugging down the blankets.
“No, Daddy!” Little feet kick my hands away. As tired as I am, I smile at this tiny version of myself.
Leaning in, I slip my hands under her body; cute or not, her ass is coming home. “Come on, Angel. You can see Bennett in the morning.”
“No!” She scoots closer to Bennett and locks her arms around his. “He needs me.”
Heaven help me. “I’m going to kill your husband,” I say to Breck, who hovers at the foot of the bed, enjoying my struggle.
She sits down on the edge, scooting closer to Aspen and Bennett, rubbing her palm over their arms. “Can I take over?” she asks Aspen.
Aspen clutches Bennett tighter. I wonder how upset Anniston would be if I just put a lock on Aspen’s door? It’s basically like a big kid baby gate.
“No, Daddy! I don’t want to leave!”
Bennett finally rouses from Aspen’s theatrics and levels me with a flat look.
That look doesn’t faze me, kid. Ask your father. I give no fucks.
He holds my gaze for a moment, finally dropping our stare down, and sighs heavily, annoyed. Cade should be proud; he’s like an old man already. “I’m fine, Asp. Go with your dad.”
Asp.
His nickname for her is a punch straight to the gut. My little angel, the little girl I taught to throw a ball and beat her brother’s ass on the PlayStation, is someone’s Asp.
My eyes narrow to slits, but then my daughter returns with, “No, thanks,” like she has some say in the matter.
“Aspen,” I snap.
Really?
It’s been one exhausting night. Dealing with Jameson was difficult enough. His PTSD cripples everyone when it hits him. The last thing I want is to argue with a nine-year-old about sleeping arrangements.
“Please, Aspen,” Breck interrupts, sliding under the covers next to Bennett.
Aspen shakes her head. “No, he needs me to sleep.”
He needs a fucking teddy bear is what he needs, not my daughter.
“I know, sweetheart, but just tonight, let me sleep with Bennett? I promise, I’ll protect him until you get back.”
I roll my eyes at my neighbor, who has more patience than I do. We shouldn’t have to negotiate with our children; yet, here we are, Breck begging to lie with Bennett and me impatiently waiting for Aspen to agree to come home.
Aspen lifts her head and eyes Breck like she’s assessing if Breck can really care for her own child better than she can.
She gets that defiant attitude from her mother.
“In three hours, you’ll be back together,” Breck adds, hoping a countdown will seal the deal.
Aspen turns and looks at Bennett, who is now sitting up looking like someone took a shit on his LEGO bricks. At first, I think it’s because I’m forcing Aspen away, but then he barks, “Go, Aspen!”
I take an instinctive step forward before Breck’s calm voice stops me. “Aspen, your daddy looks tired. I think he might need you to take him home. I promise, I’ll take care of grumpy Bennett.” She rumples Bennett’s hair, and it only serves to deepen his frown.
Grumpy Bennett better get some rest because if he barks at my little girl again, I’m going to bark back. I nod to Breck and grab Aspen while she’s stunned at Bennett’s reaction. Hoisting her over my shoulder, I grab a blanket, draping it over her back. “Tell Bennett goodnight,” I say, as we walk toward the door.
When she doesn’t speak, I look back and see Bennett has rolled to the edge of the bed, his back to us. Breck and I share a confused look.
“Bennett?” Breck asks. “Aspen is leaving. Do you want to tell her goodnight?”
He doesn’t move, and Breck adds, “I think he fell asleep, sweetheart.”
“He’s not asleep,” the little girl on my shoulder whispers.
I don’t have another heart-to-heart in me tonight. Aspen and Bennett will be fine in the morning. “Bye, B,” I mutter. “Don’t let Jameson fall asleep. He owes me a run.”
Breck nods, and I hurry out the door until I’m pulled to a stop, my chest fracturing into tiny pieces when Aspen cries, “Goodbye, Bennett.”
No touching—unless absolutely necessary
Aspen
All I requested was one last night with my boys before graduation.
No chicks.
No sleepovers.
Just booze and more booze.
And maybe a bit of dancing.
But after three pubs, six shots of vodka, and a spontaneous phone call, our night—well, morning—ended with us standing on the edge of an abandoned bridge with a whole lot of attitude.
“Hold this for me.”
Handing over the piece of gum I’d been chewing for the past hour, I flash Bennett a smug smile. “You don’t want me to choke going down, do you?” I take in the firm set of his jaw, that insanely sexy cheek muscle twitching as he holds my gaze. You’d think the reason he’s in a foul mood this morning is because he’s awake at the butt crack of dawn, but I know better.
Bennett Jameson, quarterback of Havemeyer’s title-winning football team, is having the shittiest of mornings thanks to me and my drunken, spontaneous ideas.
“Well, if you won’t hold my gum, will you at least give me a push over the edge?” I look over my shoulder at the vast space below. “I don’t want to chicken out and owe Fenn a hundred bucks.”
I shake my hand, drawing his attention back to the piece of gum stuck between two fingers.
“No,” he bites out, snatching the gum and throwing it over his shoulder.
I cock a brow, amused. “No, you don’t want to hold my gum?” I give him a teasing look. “You could have just said so. You didn’t have to be
all rude about it.” I pat my back pocket. “I got a whole new pack. I didn’t actually need you to hold it anyway.”
Do I know he wants to kill me?
Yes.
Does that entice me to keep going?
Absolutely.
Nothing in this world beats aggravating Bennett Jameson in front of witnesses. He may want to strangle me, but he won’t, because he’s a gentleman like that.
Okay. That’s not true.
Bennett is a gentleman, but he doesn’t give a shit if he embarrasses me in front of witnesses. The only reason he hasn’t is because he’s a patient man and knows when he’s being taunted.
I am all about that life.
Pushing Bennett Jameson’s boundaries is what I live for.
Bennett blinks slowly, as if I’ve bored him into a coma. I shrug, a slow smile teasing at my lips right before I yell for his twin brother. “Drew! Come shove me over the—”
Bennett’s hand clamps over my mouth, his stare full of barely controlled anger, when he grits out a firm, “No.”
After he releases my mouth, I notice a tremble in his arms while his hands clench at his sides.
A cautious woman would stop messing with him at this point.
I’m not that woman.
“Count me down then?” I negotiate, flashing Paul, the guy securing my harness, a wink. “You gotta participate somehow, BJ. This is our last event as a crew. If you’ve forgotten, I’m finally graduating from college.” It only took me five years to graduate with a master’s degree since my grad program was only a year long. I enjoyed the entire college experience, but more than that, I adored the man in front of me. I couldn’t leave him after four years; I needed more time.
Bennett’s hardened expression never wavers, even after calling him BJ—a nickname he hates. “You’re not jumping,” he clarifies.
I reach out, intending to soothe him by cupping that ticking steel jaw, but he takes a step back, and I’m left with a buzzing fury idling between us. I push down a frustrated sigh. Bennett is notoriously stingy with his affection. And touching—unless absolutely necessary—is against his rules.
It doesn’t stop me, though.
“Not only am I jumping,” I correct him, “but I’m jumping with my eyes closed.” I force my eyebrows up and down a bit. I’m sure it looks ridiculous, but that’s okay. Too much seriousness will set him off. I want to aggravate him, not piss him off and make us both miserable.
His low growl rumbles between us.
And… playtime is over. “Tell you what, Bennett, I—”
“Swear to God, Aspen—” my brother, Fenn, interrupts, “—if you don’t jump, I will push you off this bridge myself. It’s too fucking early to deal with yours and Bennett’s drama. You wanted to jump, let’s do it.”
At the threat of Fenn pushing me, which isn’t much of a threat but more like a promise, Bennett steps forward and grabs a fistful of my shirt, hauling me against his chest. It’s warm, hard, and deliciously familiar. It’s also an exception to the rule since Fenn threatened me. See exception: unless absolutely necessary.
“You push her—” Bennett’s voice vibrates with fury as he threatens Fenn over the top of my head, “—and I’ll make sure it’s the last time you use your hands.”
“Wow.” Fenn chuckles, the dark circles under his eyes are evidence that he never went to bed last night. “Someone needs a cookie and a hand job.”
Inhaling, Fenn shouts over Paul. “Drew! Get off the phone and come handle your brother. He’s doing that vibrating thing again. I’m afraid he’ll either explode or mutate.”
Bennett’s nostrils flare, and his throat works to keep his words at bay. It’s not that Fenn’s words upset him—as crass as they may be. But more, Fenn’s comments finally flipped his switch. I’ve put Bennett through hell in the past twenty-four hours, pushing his rules every chance I’ve gotten. And now it’s my brother’s turn to rub in what Bennett hates to discuss most—our relationship.
“Stop,” I scold, eyeing my brother’s face, all grin and lazy attitude. “Let’s just do this. The sun is almost up.” I offer Bennett a relaxed smile. “Is it breaking the rules if you kiss me goodbye?” My heart flutters in my chest at the possibility. “I could die, and this is the last time you’ll ever—”
“Shut up,” he clips.
It’s not the romantic goodbye I was expecting, but it’ll do.
Harnessed and ready to go, Fenn flashes me a look that says, “Tame the beast and let’s do this.” He and Drew have been waiting for Bennett to ease up and let me jump.
Enough is enough.
I blow out a breath and place my hands over Bennett’s fists that still hold my shirt. My voice is a careful whisper when I promise, “It’ll be over before you know it.”
His eyes tighten, and the artery in his neck pulses. “Bennett.” I place my palm on his cheek, my thumb smoothing the tightly coiled muscle. Unlike a few minutes ago, he doesn’t step back. He stands there, tense and angry.
“Cannonball!”
In a flash, Drew sprints across the bridge, his harness jingling while the bungee cable trails behind. He rushes my brother, tackling him and sending them both toppling over the bridge’s low guardrail in a tangle of holy shits and screams.
“Mother—”
Paul, the guy my brother paid to set up this bungee jump, swears and hangs over the side of the ledge watching, his expression pinched and worried as both Fenn’s and Drew’s bungee cables catch on the anchor.
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “My brother is an underachiever. My parents won’t be too upset if he doesn’t make it.”
Using the distraction to my advantage, I hold my arms out wide and close my eyes, jerking back against Bennett’s grip, intending to free-fall into the space below.
I go absolutely nowhere.
“Come on, Bennett,” I whine. “You already agreed to this.”
“I changed my mind.”
What else is new?
“You can’t just change your mind. I’m strapped into the bungee harness for goodness’ sake.”
Looking toward the sky, Bennett blows out a breath before pinning me with a pointed look.
I arch my brows, waiting for the inevitable, “We’re going home.”
It never comes.
Instead, he clips out, “Give me a harness,” to Paul, who doesn’t even blink when he returns, “Separate or tandem?”
“Tandem.”
I hold back a fist pump. “You know that going with me won’t save me from hitting the pavement if this thing breaks.” I tug on the harness. “Now that I think about it, we’re more likely to plummet to our death with your added weight than me going alone.”
“Shut up, Aspen. I know what you’re doing.” He tugs me away from the railing. “Don’t move.”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, sir.”
Paul brings a harness to Bennett and helps him put it on.
“Bennett,” I call, reaching into my back pocket and pulling out a piece of gum, “Don’t throw up on me, ‘kay?”
Did I mention Bennett is scared of heights?
It’s cute, right? Someone so large and scary fears something as simple as height.
He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he focuses on Paul’s instructions. I pocket the gum, chewing a fresh piece while I wait. Unfortunately for Bennett, Paul’s instructions don’t take long, and in a matter of minutes, he’s back, standing in front of me, a fine sheen of sweat dotting his forehead.
“Hi.” I grin.
He shakes his head.
“Want me to distract you?” I offer when Paul kneels and straps our ankles together.
He swallows. “You’re always distracting.”
For someone who was adamantly against this deal last night, he’s handling things pretty well. “True, but I mean, I could really distract you.” I waggle my brows.
“No more exceptions today.”
If he didn’t sound disappointed, I might have felt a pang of hur
t.
“Got it,” I say instead. “Want some gum?”
I’m talking fast and hitting him with all the hard questions. He may not want a distraction, but I’m providing one.
“No.” He sighs. “And spit out your gum. Why did you get another piece?”
I half shrug. “I got bored waiting.”
“For the five minutes it took to get me strapped in?”
Was it really five minutes? I think not. More like ten.
He holds out his hand. “Spit it out.”
I raise my brows. Bennett’s follow, mimicking mine.
This man has been a pain in my ass all day. No way is he telling me what to do again.
I chuckle, giving him a little kiss-my-ass smirk, and swallow the gum.
He sighs, and the corner of his mouth tips up into an almost smile.
“Alright, Aspen,” Paul says. “I need you to put your arms around Bennett with your head tucked between his neck and shoulder.”
Paul, you sweet, sweet man, you’ve made my freaking day.
I look at Bennett, forcing a severe expression. “Remember, all this is your fault. You could have let me hit that pavement alone while you stayed safe and untouched—ow!” I flinch and glance down at his hand on my hip. “I can’t believe you pinched me.”
He pulls me closer and shoves my head into his shoulder. It’s nice and firm and smells like after-bar Bennett. “I should have shoved you,” he says finally.
I grin. “You really should have.”
A tiny chuckle rumbles against me, and I realize this might be the best idea I’ve ever had.
“Alright,” Paul says, guiding Bennett and me over to a cut-in that Fenn and Drew didn’t bother using. “Hang on to each other. Derek is waiting at the bottom for you.” Hopefully, Derek got our idiot brothers out of the way. “On three, Bennett, lean forward,” Paul continues explaining.
I barely register it. My heart is pounding, my body locked tightly in the love of my life’s arms. If this is the last time I get to feel these arms, I can walk away a semi-happy girl.
“Asp,” Bennett rasps out.
I jerk off his shoulder and meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
