Legacy (RiffRaff Records Book 2)

by L. P. Maxa

  “As opposed to shacking up out of wedlock?” Uncle Dash raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side, peering down the table to my father.

  Uncle Smith snorted. “Please, when has anyone at this table actually done anything in wedlock?”

  “Kitten and I were engaged when Halen was born. That counts.” Uncle Dash pointed across the table.

  My dad threw his head back, chuckling. “Please. You two had been engaged all of three hours before that kid came screaming into this world.”

  Uncle Luke raised his hand. “Uh, Lex’s labor lasted way longer than three hours. I nearly went blind from staring at that monitor waiting for my goddaughter.”

  Aunt Lexi reached over Uncle Dash and squeezed Uncle Luke’s hand. They did this every once in a while. Talked amongst themselves like we were no longer sitting at the table. There was really no use trying to interrupt them to say that Hales and I had no plans to get married. Yet.

  “I never actually knocked my girl up. So I feel like I have a leg to stand on.” My dad shrugged like talking about knocking my mom up at the dinner table was no big deal. Meanwhile Landry looked like she was about to throw up.

  My Aunt Dilly rolled her eyes. “You had two kids before most of us had one. I don’t think your situation counts at all.”

  Uncle Luke raised his hand again. “Hello? We did everything right. We were engaged before Pix got pregnant and we were married before Cash and Crue were born. We win. We do things right.” He pointed across the table at his sons. “You three? Ring. Then baby. Got it?”

  They all three nodded their heads. Silently, I thanked God that no one had brought up us losing the baby or the fact that I’d gotten Halen pregnant at all. I think they all knew how hard that had been on us. And I doubted that anyone would broach the subject, ever.

  “Beau, does that mean you’re taking Lex up on her offer to help run the art department at Riffraff?” Aunt Lo’s eyes were hopeful.

  I returned her smile. “Yes. Until Halen finishes school at least.” And then we’d reevaluate.

  “Okay. Great. Monday morning we’ll start working on the content for Clashing Swell.” She clapped her hands together once. “I am so excited that you want to do this, bud. You have an amazing eye.”

  “I learned from the best.”

  Aunt Lexi bit at her bottom lip. “Do you mean that? Or are you just trying to butter up your girlfriend’s mom?”

  “I assure you, I mean that.” It was almost foreign to look at my Aunt Lexi as Halen’s mom. My girl reached under the table and put her hand back on my thigh, moving it upward, slowly. I put my hand on top of hers, pleading with my eyes once again. She was hell bent on torturing me tonight. I leaned down and whispered, “Keep it up, Sweets, and I’ll start returning the favor.” Her hand froze on its way to my dick, her lips parting in shock. And lust.

  “How are things going with Clashing Swell? That drummer of theirs is insane, in more ways than one.” Uncle Luke shook his head. “He’s one of the most talented I’ve ever seen, and he’s actually nuts. I saw that guy do a front flip off the stage rigging right into the crowd.” He moved his head around Aunt Lo. “You remember that, Landry? You met us at that concert a few weeks ago.”

  She nodded. Her complexion was getting greener by the minute.

  “He let a fan tattoo his ass backstage, freehand. This dude just whips out a gun and starts working on his bare ass.” Uncle Luke laughs. “I think he let him tattoo a dolphin or something.”

  “You think he’s a liability?” Uncle Smith, ever the serious one, narrowed his eyes, not finding any of this drummer’s antics funny apparently.

  “Nah. He’s just a young kid, having the time of his life.” Uncle Luke shrugged. “He reminds me a little of Jacks to be honest. You know, if Jacks was a drummer-surfer that wore swim trucks covered in marijuana leaves and did gymnastics into the crowd every chance he got.”

  “How old is he?” My mom leaned forward addressing Uncle Luke.

  “Maybe twenty-two. Young.”

  “Young? Are you kidding?” My mom made a sad little maternal face. I stifled an eye roll. I’m pretty sure she was around that age when she started raising Landry with my dad. And I was that age when I took off on my own. Parents were old AF. “He’s just a baby, I can’t—”

  Before my mom could get another word out my sister leaned over the table and threw up every bite of steak she’d eaten in the last twenty minutes. Loudly.

  “Oh my gosh. Landry, sweetheart, are you okay?” My mom got up and rushed around the table, putting her hand on Landry’s back and trying to move her hair out of the way. “Did your stomach bug come back?”

  “No.” She swished with some water and wiped the corner of her mouth with a cloth napkin. She met my eyes then Halen’s. She sent us a small smile with a shrug. “I’m pregnant.”

  “What? Buttercup, with who?” My dad stood, knocking his beer into his plate in the process. He looked like he was about to pass out.

  Landry gagged but held it in. Probably because she didn’t have anything else to throw up. “Uh, don’t know.”

  “Did you do IVF? A sperm donor? Did you, um, is that it?” My mom was smiling really big, almost like she was willing that to be the case.

  “Nope.” I watched as my sister piled her vomit-filled hair on top of her head in a messy bun. I’d never seen anyone look so casual covered in puke. “He was a one-night stand.” Well, now that wasn’t necessarily the truth. But I could see where she wouldn’t want to announce that she’d slept with two dudes too close together to know for sure.

  “He was a one-night stand? Jesus, Landry. Please tell me you at least know his name.” My dad was rubbing his temples like he was fighting off a massive headache.

  “Isn’t that the definition of a one-night stand? No details exchanged?”

  She was lying through her teeth and sending our parents to an early grave. She knew both of the potential fathers.

  “Will everyone please stop saying one-night stand?” My mom was, no joke, still smiling. It was like she really didn’t know what else to do with her face.

  Halen leaned over and whispered, “I thought she told you it was her ex or the mystery guy. Why is she claiming one-night stand?”

  I whispered back. “I don’t think the alternative is all that much better, Sweets. At least this way there is only one possibility, instead of two.” Halen nodded in understanding.

  Landry got to her feet, her chin held high. “This isn’t really the way I saw my life going either. But. I’m having a baby. And you guys can either be on board and get excited or not. It’s your choice.”

  “Um. Okay.” My dad sat back down, obviously not really sure what to do with himself.

  “I’m going to go back to the house and take a shower. Good night.” She looked down at her plate. “Sorry about the mess.”

  Halen stood up, backhanding me lightly on the shoulder. “We’ll go with her. Make sure she makes it back without getting sick again.”

  We would? That was the second time I’d almost been covered in my sister’s throw-up. I was supportive as hell, but I didn’t really want to shoot for a third. I got to my feet when she hit me again, harder this time.

  “Landry, wait up.”

  She slowed her stride and waited for Halen and me to catch up. “You guys don’t need to come with me. Really. Stay, I could hear how excited you were to talk about building your new house.” She didn’t turn to face us.

  Halen rested her hand on my sister’s back. “We have all the time in the world to talk to them about that. You’re leaving in the morning, and you’re clearly not okay.”

  Landry spun around and hugged Halen. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to find out like you did. You covered for me, you saved me.” She pulled away, wiping at the tears on her face. “But I just didn’t want to lie to them again. I’m sorry, guys. I should have spoken up before. I should have never left you to cover for me.”

  Halen looked at me then gest
ured toward my sobbing sister. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her against me. “Don’t worry about us, okay? We were going to tell them anyway. You just need to worry about you and our little niece or nephew. If you want me to come stay with you, I will. If you want me or both of us there when you tell the father, we’ll be there. You hear me?”

  She nodded while wiping her snotty nose on my shirt like only a sister could get away with. “I love you guys.”

  We formed a group hug and Halen added, “We love you too.”

  She stood up straight, squaring her shoulders. “Okay.” She brushed away the remainder of her tears. “You two go back to dinner. I’m going to go home and pass out. I’m exhausted.” She hugged us both again and then headed off toward our house.

  We watched silently as she made it to our driveway and then Halen rested her head on my arm. “You want to go back to dinner?”

  I chuckled as I threw her over my shoulder, taking off in the direction of our tree house. “Not a chance, Sweets.”

  Epilogue

  Landry

  I sighed as I dropped my luggage right inside my front door. This past week had been one of the longest of my life. And it wasn’t even close to over yet. I needed to schedule a doctor’s appointment. I needed to contact two men and tell them that they may or not be the father of my fetus. For fuck’s sake. What had my life turned into? I was a surgeon. I was independent, educated, and successful. And now? Knocked up.

  I collapsed on my pristine white sofa. This thing would have to go soon. I’d been around enough babies in my life to know that white and toddlers did not mix well. Crue had dropped a cup of red Kool-Aid all over our Aunt Mikah’s wedding dress. Before the ceremony.

  I leaned my head back, closing my eyes for a little lap when my phone started to vibrate in my pocket.

  I pulled it out, not able to stop the smile on my face. Brody. The young, crazy drummer from Clashing Swell. I had one missed call and one text waiting for me. This ought to be good. I hit play on the voicemail.

  Hey bad girl. I miss your gorgeous face and your fucking sexy body. Call me as soon as you get home. Peace.

  I snorted as I deleted it, opening the text.

  Brody: You home? I’m horny.

  I bit my lip. It shouldn’t make me grin; it was crass and vulgar. And presumptuous. I sighed, typing out my reply.

  Me: Just walked in the door.

  Brody: I’m coming over. I missed the fuck out of you baby cakes.

  I should tell him no. I should see a doctor and then invite him to dinner, make sure he wasn’t drunk or high. And then tell him about the baby, that it could be his. Or. I could just not tell him. I could not tell either one of them. My parents thought it was a one-night stand; maybe I could go with that story? I sure as hell didn’t want to raise a child with my ex. He was an asshole and a cheater. He’d make a terrible father. I could see it now. Polos and pressed khakis, private schools and neurotic overachievements. I shuddered. Not my kid.

  Brody: Be naked.

  I snorted. Why did I find him funny? Why was I stripping off my shirt and shimmying out of my shorts?

  Brody: I’m fucking hard as a rock.

  I piled my hair on top of my head. Sex with Brody was like a marathon sport. He fucked like it was his job. Like it was his career, his passion. He fucked liked his life depended on it. And I was hooked. I’d been hooked from the first night I’d met him. The night he did a front flip off the light rigs into the crowd.

  Yep. Thank goodness Uncle Luke and Aunt Lo had headed back to their hotel room before Brody had thrown me over his shoulder and carted me off to the nearest supply closet. There was just something about him. Something that I couldn’t get enough of. His energy, his philosophy…his body. He was six-three with shoulder-length blond hair and a tanned, muscular physique. He was pure sex. No doubt about it. And he always smelled like the ocean. He surfed every day without fail.

  Brody: I’m parking. You better not be wearing any clothes.

  Brody: I take that back. Leave your underwear on. I want to rip them off with my teeth.

  I stood, unclasping my bra and unlocking my front door. No harm no foul in not telling either one of them. My ex didn’t want kids. I’d heard him say it more than once. And Brody? Hell, Brody still was a kid. And his band was leaving in a couple of months to go on tour. I’d have fun with him until the bus pulled away. Piece of cake.

  I turned around as I heard my front door open. “Hey, bad girl.”

  I smiled, my hands on my hips. “Miss me?”

  “You have no fucking idea, baby cakes.” He took two long strides into the room, picked me up then buried his face in my neck. “You miss me?”

  He pulled back and I looked into his blue eyes. I couldn’t help but smile. “I did.” And I had. I’d missed the way he made me laugh. I missed his easy way of living. I missed the sex. We’d been fucking like rabbits for three weeks straight.

  “I want to live inside your body until I leave to go on tour. That okay with you?” He was walking us backward to my bedroom; his hands had a tight grip on my ass.

  “Yes.” My answer came out on a moan. I did want that. I needed that. The distraction and the comfort. Everything Brody gave so freely, I needed. I’d held it together in front of my family, and I’d get through this. I’d be a good mom. I’d work. I’d raise my kid and further my career. And I’d do it all on my own.

  But right now, while I had Brody here to make me smile, make me laugh, make me scream…

  I’d soak up every second of it I could.

  The RiffRaff saga continues with Brody and Landry’s book, Infamy.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  L.P. Maxa lives in Austin, Texas, with her husband, daughter, three rescue dogs, and one stray cat. The fish died. She loves reading romance novels as much as she loves writing them. She’s new to the writing game but has published four books in her first year alone. Inspiration can come from anywhere: a song lyric, a quote, a weekend with friends. The tiniest things spark amazing stories.

  ALSO BY L.P. MAXA

  RiffRaff Records

  Royalty

  St. Leasing

  Mouth Watering

  Breath Taking

  The Devil’s Share series

  Play Nice

  Play Dirty

  Play Fair

  Play Softly

  Play Hard

  Play For Keeps

  Happy Place

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