Brushing a kiss over her knuckles, I lifted her hand to my shoulder, drawing her close. The slow rhythm navigated our movements. At first, our bodies swayed inches apart, but within a few bars of the song, our bodies pressed together unable to keep distance. Her cheek rested against my chest. Magnets pulled together by an undeniable, inexplicable force. When her fingertips clawed at the back of my shirt, I pulled back. I needed to see her face.
Her dark green orbits rounded. “Is this real?”
Moistening my lips, I leaned down to kiss her. Our mouths joined the dance. Our lips. Our tongues. Retreating just an inch or two, I stared down at her.
“Does it feel real?” I asked. Jesus, nothing had felt more real to me than having her in my arms.
“Sometimes it feels like a dream. A dream I never want to wake up from.”
Taking hold of her hand, I lightly pinched the loose skin like when you want to know if you’re dreaming. “When you wake up, I’ll still be next to you.”
Her top teeth pressed down on her bottom lip as her nose scrunched up. I could only imagine the nose scrunch I’d see if I told her the things I wanted to do to her later.
“How long will we stay?” she whispered. “I mean, I want a piece of cake, but I want you more,” she whispered, and her cheeks flushed the same color as her hair.
The carnal instinct to take her right there, right then monopolized my thoughts. Glancing around, I eyed the people near us, the possibilities, her dress, the longing in her eyes. Fuck. My mother smiled at me from across the room. The pressure against the front of my slacks eased.
Settling for a soft kiss, I leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You know.” Phoebe shivered as I spoke. “Pleasure can be found first in the anticipation.”
She slowly nodded.
“What are you two whispering about,” Mom interrupted.
“Cake!” Phoebe shouted at my mother taken off guard by the interruption. I chuckled out loud.
“Yes. Phoebe’s hungry.” I squeezed her hand.
“Oh! Well if you didn’t get enough to eat, come back to the house and I will fix something for you.”
Mom didn’t understand the hunger I referred too. Spaghetti wouldn’t squash this hunger inside of us.
“You and Dad can head home, Mom. We are going to eat some cake then probably hang with everyone.” Phoebe held tight to my hand.
“OK. I’ll make some food anyway,” she said. With a quick hug, my mother and father walked off together holding hands. Two of my father’s men followed them.
“Who are those men?”
I hid the wince. “They work for my father and are there if he needs something.”
“Oh. Like what?”
“Like anything. He runs several businesses and is in demand on a lot of issues.” I hated answering questions about my father.
“Cake,” she said, starting to step back into the reception. I tugged her back next to me.
“Wait. You mean like cake cake or caaake.” I cocked a brow since cake and sex had been one and the same earlier.
She snickered. “I want cake then I want caaake.”
We both laughed.
The house smelled like pasta, so typical of my mother to leave it sitting out on the counter so we couldn’t miss it. Phoebe made an Mmm sound as we walked past, but my body was past the point of no return. She rushed around the island in the kitchen away from me.
“I want a bite. It smells so good.”
I shook my head. “You said cake and caaake,” I chuckled. “Pasta was not in the mix.” I strolled around the corner and reached out for her, but she juked away, laughing. “Phoebe. Sweet pea. You do not want to run from me.”
When her mischievous eyes landed on me, I fell hard into those green pools. This…this playfulness is what I needed in my life. I loved this girl. I was fucking all in too. I needed to tell her.
I darted around the island in the opposite direction. Ready for my attack, she bolted toward the spiral staircase that lead up to my room. Given that she was barefoot, she took the steps quickly, two at a time, disappearing before I could catch her. When I rounded the corner, her pink panties lay crumpled in the middle of the hallway.
I snatched up the delicate lace and hurriedly pushed open my bedroom door only to find her resting against the headboard.
“Missing something?” The panties dangled from my finger.
“You can’t give those back until you do that thing you do.” Both her palms slapped over her face in a lame attempt to hide her embarrassment.
With deliberate slowness, I quietly closed the door, dropped the panties and with the prowess of a jungle cat, I climbed up the bed until I reached her.
_______________
As the morning light snuck into the bedroom, I sensed before I even turned over that the bed was empty. With only my t-shirt and sweat shorts on, I stepped out onto the balcony off my room and spotted the mass of red hair fighting the wind down on the beach. She enjoyed the beach every single possible second. I’d stay as long as she would, but with all the chaos back home, she’d want to return ASAP. Standing about 50 yards back behind her, Frank watched her. He’d been security for my mother for years. Sliding a sweatshirt over my head, I hustled downstairs to find both Mom and Dad drinking coffee.
“Why is Frank watching Phoebe?”
Predictable as ever, Mom glanced at my father, not willing or able to answer. My father folded the newspaper.
“Joe told me that he told you there were some issues in Chicago. Did you not believe him?”
Dragging my fingers through my hair, I released a frustrated breath. “Why is Frank watching Phoebe?” I emphasized her name.
Folding his arms across his chest, Dad said, “You care about her, Austin. That puts her at risk.”
“I don’t want her seeing any of this. None. I don’t want her seeing Frank. Joe. None of this shit.”
“Austin,” my mother whispered.
“The Mattitori’s have an external threat. You are part Mattitori. Don’t ever forget who you are.” Dad forcefully poked the table with the last three words he spoke.
My concerned eyes fell to my mother’s. She was the only daughter of the Mattitori family. Her four brothers ran the family business for the most part. Granddad maintained control, but age had gotten the best of him. Mom stared out at the blue sky.
My mood softened. “Please just keep them away from Phoebe, ok?”
When my father stood, the chair screeched against the stone floor. He held his shoulders high. “I will not. She means something to you. That means she has security.”
He didn’t have to say that it wasn’t open for discussion. His silent exit from the room said it all. Mom’s eye fluttered up to mine.
“Don’t you understand? It’s because he loves you.”
Stepping up behind her, I massaged her shoulders. “Mom, everything in my whole life has been for the sake of love. We both know that’s the pretense, but it comes down to business. Money.”
“You have it wrong, son. Family is everything.”
The whip of red hair on the deck out back caught my eye. “Excuse me,” I said to my mother.
I met Phoebe as she came up the stairs. Her phone was in her hand. A chilly wind left her fingers freezing cold, and she tucked her arms between us as I hugged her. “Good morning, Sweet Pea.” I kissed the perfect strawberry blond mound of hair. Frank stepped around the stairs and positioned himself outside of my view.
“I love that you call me Sweet Pea.”
A slight grin moved my lips.
Phoebe leaned back so she could stare up at me. “You ok?”
“I am. Why?”
Her shoulders popped up and down. “You seem tense. Something on your mind?”
“Only that I don’t like waking up and having you gone. We are going to have to talk about how the kids are going to sleep at my house.”
Her adorable nose scrunch and giggle drove me freaking wild. I was pretty damn serious thou
gh. Letting her go back to her life would be harder than I ever thought. My mind wrestled with options…viable ones. Keeping Hannah employed to help Phoebe would help me.
“If Hannah stays on to help you, would you spend the night with me on occasion?”
Gutting me, she backed away, tucking strands of curls behind her ears. “I never want the kids to know,” she paused. “To know what we’re doing.”
Swallowing, I nodded. “I understand. But you are a twenty-four-year-old beautiful woman that deserves to have a life and to be in a relationship too.”
The green eyes I loved, flickered in the rounded orbits—almost in a vertigo sort of way as she contemplated my words. This girl was a needle in a haystack. My needle. One in a million. If she could give me the one, her…I’d give her a million reasons to stay.
“I’ve hired Sloan an attorney,” I told her.
“Can’t you be her attorney?”
“I could. But there’s a wee bit of a conflict of interest. And it’s not my expertise. The guy I hired has already contacted the district attorney to get a copy of the police report.”
“And that’ll help?”
“Come sit.” I guided her over to the outdoor sofa.
“You’re scaring me.”
Brushing a kiss over her forehead, I tried my best to explain. “Unless the DA decides not to file charges, which is unlikely, Sloan’s probably going to be looking at a diversion. That’s where…”
“I know what a diversion is, Austin.”
Phoebe sat, with the wind blowing through her hair, fiddling with her fingers and told me about her past. She told me about stealing the formula. About the antibiotics. Her brother Jake had apparently stolen things without getting caught. As a last resort, she had done it. Long story short, she dropped out of college. Ended up getting one job, two jobs and then a third, trying to make ends meet.
“I know I am not the type of girl you are used to being around, Austin. If you don’t want to be with me, I get it. I truly do. My record isn’t awful, but I know it isn’t good.” Her fists were drawn up inside of my Oregon sweatshirt she’d worn nearly every day ,so I couldn’t take her hand. Little did she know that I already knew all of the information she’d just purged. She trusted me though and that felt good.
“We’ve all done things we’ve regretted. We’ve been a part of things that weren’t the best situations.” I sort of felt like I was explaining my own family situation. “I would have done the same thing had I been in your situation. Besides, I’ve never felt this way about any of the girls I am ‘used’ to being around.”
Even though her knees were drawn up to her chest and lodged between us, she wrapped me into the tightest hug. “Promise me you’ll protect her. Get her the best possible deal. Promise.” Her words were muffled by her mouth pressing against my chest, and maybe it was proximity, but she spoke straight to my heart. When I opened my eyes, Frank stood in the distance watching all around us.
“I’ll protect you… every single one of you, Sweet Pea,” I whispered, caressing down her hair. “All of you.”
Chapter 11
PHOEBE
Reality Bites
AUSTIN SAID WE should have bought stock in Kleenex for the amount I went through on the drive back to Texas. Saying goodbye to his family, to the beach, to the ocean. The memories would fade over time. That was the thing about memories. You don’t really know you’re making a memory; you just know you’re having fun. But I didn’t just have fun. I became part of a family, part of a crew. A memory in their lives too. I cried when we passed through Idaho, through Utah, through New Mexico, and as we passed the sign saying welcome to Texas, my heart cracked just a little bit with worry that my fairytale may not have a happily ever after.
Sloan was 17, so thankfully, she didn’t face any adult charges. At the suggestion of her attorney, Sloan started individual therapy, which she agreed to but hated. Talking about anything to do with her past was difficult for her. For both of us. Our stint in foster care when we were young hadn’t done either of us any favors. As she went into her therapy appointment, I stared at her.
“Want me to come too? It’s easier to talk about when someone else went through it with you.”
She shook her head, rejecting my offer, and disappeared behind the door.
As I flipped through the Sexiest People Alive magazine, my mind couldn’t focus on the slick pages. The distraction of knowing Sloan had to relive it again destroyed me. Having him touch us while we lived there was one thing but retelling the story over and over again was an entirely different type of victimization. For her, especially. She’d endured much more than I had. I recognized the abuse as an asshole being an asshole; she internalized everything until she self-imploded. But, I was glad Austin had found her this therapist, even if he didn’t know about the sexual abuse. That was the one thing I’d kept from him. There was no reason for him to know.
School started; this was my first year of not needing daycare. Kindergarten to senior—my mother sure knew how to leave her mark. She’d basically given birth to a millennial, a Gen Z and a Gen Alpha. You’d think she’d be in a nursing home rather than prison. And she wasn’t even 40. Dad chose drugs over us—our family tree sucked.
Austin came by on his way to work and took back-to-school pics of all of us together, of course bearing gifts for first day well wishes.
The pipes on Nick’s Harley were impossible to disguise or hide, and he was an idiot if he didn’t think I heard him driving around at all hours. Thankfully, he’d given me distance outside of a few texts and unanswered calls.
Austin brought Italian for dinner, and my fear of the kids becoming attached had come true. They’d fallen even harder than I had for him. And I’d fallen hard. Watching him play dominos with them or read to them…watching him drink tea with his pinkie out at a tea party with Claire, and his offer to run Jake to his basketball practices. I was overwhelmed with his generosity and kindness to my family.
The tap at the door startled all of us as we watched the movie Austin had brought along with his computer and a gadget to hook it up through my TV. He hopped over Claire in her bean bag that he’d bought for her and opened the door.
“Is Phoebe Miller here?”
Austin’s gaze fell onto me. His brows raised. I came around the corner. There had been no introductions at this point, but I could tell straight away she was a social worker. They had a look about them.
“Yes?” a sudden wave of panic rocked me to my core. Austin took hold of my hand.
“Ms. Miller, may I speak to you for a moment?”
Fuck. Someone had turned me in. I could feel it.
“Has someone turned us in?” DCF had only been in the home based on an allegation that my mother made one time since the kids had been placed with me.
“No, Ms. Miller. May I speak with you alone?” the lady glanced at Austin, as if he should leave. As freaking if. I’d learned that having him by my side was exactly what I needed.
“Whatever you have to say to me you can say in front of him.” Austin’s grip tightened.
“May we step inside?”
Back in the relief of the a/c, I asked everyone to head upstairs and directed Sloan by death glare to do as she was told. With fretful eyes she obeyed. She knew too well how it felt to be taken and uprooted and then placed into the horrors of a foster home.
The lady sat, so Austin and I sat too, waiting for her to spit out whatever it was. My stomach churned, anxiety moving the alfredo from my stomach to my throat.
“Ms. Miller. Eleven years ago, you were a victim in a case involving Bernard Coffman.”
Immediately, I released Austin’s hand and stood. Fuck. Fuck. My heart thudded against my sternum at an irregular beat.
“Is that correct, Ms. Miller?”
“Yes,” I said, softly zoning out and staring at Claire’s purple bean bag, avoiding Austin’s eyes.
“Mr. Coffman was murdered two days ago.”
Feeling sick,
my head snapped up. “Murdered?”
“Yes. Because you and your sister are listed as victims, you are listed on his sex offender registration contacts.”
Austin remained in my peripheral vision but there was no way I’d look at him. My mind was blown. Rarely did Sloan and I speak of Bernie, and two days ago, she’d purged it to the therapist. Two days later, he’s dead. Simply irony? My head spun. The man I’d fallen in love with had no clue what this was about. The lady in front of me had no way of knowing she was destroying my life. Ironic. The delivery of the best news ever was likely going to end up devastating me. The feeling was odd—my body taken over with paralysis, yet my mind whizzed in a hundred different directions and none of them good.
Suddenly, Austin was next to me. The look I threw him was one of disgust. I mirrored what I thought he was feeling. His hand cupped my elbow. I jerked away, my head spinning with lightheadedness, and I crashed hard on my butt.
“Phoebe,” Austin said, leaning down to help me up.
“Seriously, I’m fine.” I dusted my butt off like the floor was really dirty. It wasn’t. “Thank you for coming by,” I addressed the social worker. “Austin, I need to talk to Sloan, so we can catch up another time.”
“Ok,” she said. “Thank you.” The door closed behind her, but Austin didn’t leave. I opened the door back up, waiting for him to go. Hoping for him to go. Not wanting to deal with this. Heat rushed into the apartment and into my cheeks.
The brown eyes I’d fallen in love with narrowed. “Don’t, Phoebe. I’ll stay while you talk to Sloan.”
“No. I want you to go,” I spat out realizing my past was haunting me in full force.
“Stop. Tell me what this is about. Who is this Bernard guy?”
Tears lurked on the brink of falling over. “Please, just go.” My chin trembled even as I fought it.
He grabbed my shoulders, shaking them slightly. “You’re upset. I want to help. Let me help.”
I opened the front door a little further, a clear indication for him to go. His hands fell to his sides and then he was gone. However, the scent that I loved lingered. With my back pressed against the front door, I slowly slid down to the floor, trying to process how the hell this could have happened.
Finally...My Forever (Just One of the Guys Book 4) Page 12
