by Cari Quinn
“Oh, don’t toss that. It’s retro.” She came up beside him and set down a huge box with a huff of breath. “I just got that off eBay last year.”
“Dear God, why?”
She snatched it out of his hand and did the honors of yanking off her perfectly nice pale yellow shirt to replace it with the tank top. No bra. She had no bra on, and there were goddamn slashes all over the thing.
He got hard in an instant. Even if another dude’s ugly mug was stretched across her glorious tits.
“See? It fits just right. And when I got it, I—” She seemed to notice his reaction and reached up to close his lips. “At least the magic hasn’t died yet.”
He grabbed her hand and brought it to his dick, currently tenting his sweats without shame.
“Well, he is kind of cute.” With her free hand, she traced a fingernail over the edge of Vanilla Ice’s face, unintentionally—or very intentionally, knowing Ricki—circling her hard nipple. “No shame in admitting he turns your crank.”
He advanced on her. “I’ll make you wear it while I fuck you over the back of this sofa. And then I’ll rip it to shreds.”
Saying nothing, she lightly toed the box against his leg. Stopping him in place.
His throat tightened as he read the childish looping cursive in purple marker on the closed flaps of the box.
Mama.
She’d brought him an important part of her life and literally laid it at his feet, and he’d been consumed with his dick. As usual.
“We’ll do this first,” he said quickly, surprised when she laughed and pressed herself against him. Her full breasts molded to his chest and he nearly lost it.
Damn this woman.
“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” She leaned up to bite his lower lip. “But just because we’re going through the box doesn’t mean I’m passing on the other. You just have to leave Rob’s face intact.”
“Who the fuck is Rob?”
“Why, Vanilla Ice of course.” She moved back and knelt to open the box. And coughed as dust plumed up. “It’s been a while since I opened it.”
“Looks like it.” He sat down on the floor on the other side of the box.
Waiting for her cue she wanted him to do anything but offer support. While he prayed his dick didn’t spontaneously erupt at the sight of her shifting and wiggling around in that freaking tank top.
“Oh.” She tugged out a pile of crumpled, yellow sheets on top of the stack of things in the box, her lips curving. “Practice sheets from when Nicky and I were in second grade. She’d kept them in her things. Look at this, I never did the letter s the right way.” She sent him a smile. “Figures that my last name will start with S.”
His heart fisted. Just throbbed until he could barely hear her speak around the rush of blood in his head.
“She left you when you were in second grade.”
Without saying anything, she nodded, still sorting through the papers she’d found. “Lots of school papers.”
“Let me see.” So much for waiting patiently.
She handed them over without hesitation. As he flicked through them, he smiled at the big gold star at the top of a math sheet with the name Richelle written in huge letters across the top.
“A-plus? Hi, sexy nerd.”
“I was a nerd in second grade. Not so much in high school.” She dug through the box before re-emerging with a small purple book with pages edged in gold and a big lock on top. She blew off a layer of dust. “Her diary.”
“Did you ever read it?”
“No. I couldn’t find the key. She didn’t keep it with it. Besides, this is private.”
He stared at her incredulously. “You always wondered why she bailed on you and you had her diary and didn’t read it?”
Slowly, Ricki shook her head. “It wasn’t for me to go in here and find out her secrets. That isn’t fair.”
Back to fairness again. How someone who’d been so royally shit upon by life could be so concerned with balancing the scales of justice just proved what an amazing person she was.
Far too good for him.
“You know what? You’re right. You opening it up would be wrong.” He eased it out of her hand and pulled out the chain on his wallet, freeing the little screwdriver. With a couple of twists, the lock popped open and he handed it back to her. “Oops. Accident.”
She stared at him for a moment before leaning forward to give him a hard kiss. Then she sat back and opened the book. Almost immediately, she closed it again and held it to her chest. “I’m afraid.”
He’d suspected that had been behind some of her worry about maintaining her mother’s boundaries. “So let’s put it aside for another day. No one says you have to do this now.”
“I want a clean slate.” Her lower lip trembled as she stared down at the book she held so tightly. “I want to stop looking for her in crowds. Stop wishing she’d just reappear and love me like I loved her.”
He reached out and wrapped his hand around hers on the book. “You might not like what you find. And it probably still won’t stop you from looking. From wishing.”
“I know that. And I know I have to stop turning away. I’m not alone anymore.”
“Fuck, no, you aren’t.”
Nodding, she opened the cover and exhaled shakily. “Property of Gert. God, she hated her name so much. Said her mother had named her Gertrude just to curse her.”
“It’s not the greatest.”
She laughed softly. “No, it’s not.” She frowned. “Her handwriting was so small. So cramped. She must’ve been able to fit years in here.” Her throat moved. “She started this diary when she was pregnant with me and Nicky.”
“Probably freaking the hell out she had two alien babies inside her.”
Ricki flipped him the bird without looking up from the diary. She seemed to be reading as fast as her gaze could scan the page.
He couldn’t deny his curiosity at what it said. Most of all, he couldn’t help wondering if reading it would help her lay some of those old ghosts to rest—or make sure that they’d never go away.
“She was on fertility drugs.” Wonder laced Ricki’s voice. “Here I always thought the twin thing was just familial.”
“Oh, thank Jesus.”
“Don’t thank your lucky stars just yet, Shawcross. She mentions she had an aunt and a cousin who also had twins, no drugs involved.”
“And hope plummets.”
“She was so excited to have us. She keeps saying how she’d tap on her belly and talk to us.” She reached up to push a stray hair out of her face. “She wanted a boy and a girl, but she kept it a surprise. Said she knew that’s what we were even without finding out the results.”
For a long time, she didn’t say anything. Just kept reading and flipping pages.
Then she lifted her head, her eyes narrowing on Mal. “She was in love with a co-worker.”
Mal frowned. “She said that?”
“In not so many words.” Letting out a deep breath, she used her finger as a bookmark and closed the pages around it. “How could she be carrying my father’s babies—and seemingly in love with him—and also yearning for another man?”
“We know better than most that it’s not that hard to be in love with two people at once. Just because the ones we know are in committed threesomes doesn’t change the reality that people aren’t always singular when it comes to their feelings.”
She drew her legs up to her chest and rested her cheek against her knee. “That’s not me. My heart belongs just to one. And only one. How can she be so different than me?”
“I can’t answer that. But since I’m a fucking universe away from my own parents—and thank fuck for that—I’ll just say it happens.” Mal shrugged. “Maybe nature corrects its mistakes. Maybe it’s just that simple.”
“We don’t know it’s a mistake. I mean, for her to love this other guy.”
“We don’t? She was already married.”
“That’s timi
ng. And semantics. And yes, it’s not right. But without knowing all the circumstances…” Then she blew out a breath. “I’m just making excuses for her, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know. You don’t know. Your explanation is as good as any. Even with her own words in front of you, you can’t possibly know what all was in her head.” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Maybe it’s better that way.”
She pulled out her finger and closed the book. “That’s enough for now, I think.” She gazed down into the box. There was a lot more in there from what he could tell. Odds and ends and God knows what else. “We can come back to it later?”
“Sure. We only have a lifetime or five.”
She smiled and set the diary in the box, then crawled toward him on her hands and knees. “Is that all? Doesn’t seem like long enough to me.”
He tugged her onto his lap. She shifted until she was facing him, her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. “Forever’s just the beginning.”
And he was ready to get fucking started on that forever already.
“Let’s get married Saturday night after the engagement party. Just run away from it early and let everyone think we ducked out to fuck.”
“Now that would be a new way to get married.”
“Naked? Hmm. Not sure I’d share the alligator with onlookers.” She nipped his earlobe. “So whatcha think, Shawcross? Wanna get hitched next weekend?”
He cupped her face in his hands and absorbed her grin like oxygen. “Looks like you have yourself a date, Crandall.”
Sixteen
“Are you sure you want to go?”
“What?” Jules turned away from the lights out her window.
Molly shifted, changed lanes smoothly as her little Beemer sports car flew down the highway. Jules had to admit she missed the Jag. Baby time all the time took some getting used to. Not that she didn’t love it. Joshua was the very best part of them as a whole.
It just felt weird to be out without Tris or their baby. She’d gone from a band meeting to…research?
“Yes. I definitely want to go. I mean I put on hot girl clothes for the first time in months. I shouldn’t waste them right?”
“This is true. You’re rocking that corset, girl.”
Jules glanced down at her substantial cleavage. “It was the only top that still fit. This whole feeding a baby thing is seriously whoa.”
Molly scrunched up her nose. “No offense, but fuck no.”
She laughed. “I didn’t exactly see this in my future either. Even after we got together. We didn’t really talk about the kid thing. Then again, we weren’t exactly careful.” It was weird to actually talk to someone who probably understood everything she was feeling.
She and Molly weren’t exactly tight, but there was a tenuous bond there. Even if it was hard to watch her with Luc and Ethan. Seeing them together was a constant reminder that she was missing an appendage. But it wasn’t Molly’s fault, and Jules was tired of holding everyone away from her.
“Are you guys thinking kids?”
“I have two large...” Molly smirked at her. “And I do mean large man-children in my life. I do not need one of the toddler variety.”
“Come on, you’re an awesome aunt to Jazz’s kids.”
“Yes, but the best part of being an aunt is giving them back when they’re barfing. Especially when they’re barfing.”
“You do have a point there. But I miss my little guy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean it’s nice to go out. And I’m super excited to see this show, but it’s weird how having a kid pulls at you. I mean I’ve had the nanny text me pictures every hour.”
Molly’s slim blond brow arched.
“I know how it sounds. I don’t care.” She pulled out her phone and flicked open her photo folder to swipe through the pictures from earlier this afternoon. She opened her texts and started to send one to Tristan when Molly gasped.
“That is not real.”
Jules shoved her phone back into her pocket. She didn’t need to ask what Molly was talking about. The Forum was lit up with bright white and purple lights. A massive banner of the band was tucked into each panel of the massive arena’s iconic Roman-style columns. Lindsey York was front and center in the picture, her wild blond hair flowing around her shoulders. Even from the highway, there was no denying her absolute rockstar vibe. The rest of the band was impressive, but she was definitely their Beyoncé.
“Did you get the Beyoncé thing too?”
Jules laughed. “I was thinking that exact thing.”
“Now I want to know if she comes out like a queen.”
“Don’t say that too loud the BeyHive will take you out.”
“I do not need them on my ass for sure.”
Jules dug out her phone again and checked to make sure the tickets Lila had gotten for them were ready. She needn’t have bothered. There were two tickets waiting in her Ticketmaster app. She’d gotten them damn good seats. Just off the floor so they could see every angle of the stage.
“Dude.”
“What?” Jules looked up. As they got into the venue they could see the underside of the structure. Brooklyn Dawn’s name glowed from the underside.
“I want that.”
Jules laughed. “Our name up like that?”
“Yes. We fucking deserve it. We worked our ass off on our last album. It deserves to be heard. If we hadn’t been sitting on our—”
Her heart constricted.
“I didn’t mean—God. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking stupid.” Molly slammed her hand against the steering wheel.
“We needed the time. All of us.” Jules hated how quiet and broken her voice sounded.
“Of course we did. And that was stupid and thoughtless to say. I have no idea what I’d do if I lost Luc or Ethan. And to do everything you have in the last few months? I mean a baby for God’s sake. I couldn’t do that.”
“Of course you could.” She touched Molly’s hand and her chest eased as Molly immediately twisted to clutch her fingers.
“No. I really don’t think I could have. Especially the baby part.”
“It’s okay. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. And honestly…I agree.”
“You do?” Molly pulled into the valet line and focused on Juliet. “I know it’s been awful. I mean I don’t know—I don’t think anyone can really. Not to be in your actual shoes—which are bitching tonight by the way.”
As if a bubble popped in her chest, Jules laughed and crossed her legs to show off her platform heeled boots. It felt like it had been a damn long time since she could laugh unless it included Joshua. She was so busy keeping everyone at arm’s length so she didn’t have to feel anything that she was missing out on the healing that everyone else was trying to do.
“I’m just as proud of us. And I love you guys and want to be a part of the band again.” She swallowed hard. She hadn’t owned up to this to anyone—even Tristan. “I almost quit.”
“No.” Molly grabbed her other hand. “No. You can’t do that. We need you.”
“You can get another bassist.”
“We can’t get another you. That’s the part I mean. You balance the testosterone party on that fucking stage. I need you. We all need you.”
Juliet’s eyes misted. She squeezed Molly’s fingers and battled back the tears. She was fucking tired of crying. “Thanks. But I hear you like testosterone parties.”
Molly smacked her, then used the sides of her hands to dab at the corners of her eyes. “Well, you know that’s a different party.”
“I am well aware.”
“Girl.” Molly laughed and they did a silly high five.
They blasted a few Brooklyn Dawn songs on the radio as they waited their turn. By the time they got to the front of the line the tears were gone and her lungs were already raw from singing. They laughed as they rushed up the steps to the arena.
They were rushing down the hallway as Jules scrolled on
her phone. “So, the reason why we were added to the bill...hello, no opening act.”
“Right. What are they doing until we get situated and added to the bill?”
“Looks like they’ve been doing a local band thing. It’s been hit or miss.”
Molly whistled. “Yeah, that can be awesome or awful.”
“From what I gather on the fan boards and twitter—I’m going to go with awful. Enough that they skipped one for tonight.”
They got to the opening for their section and both of them stood there. The stage was massive. Overhead lights, platforms that moved, huge screens and an overhead screen on a circular feed that showed video to people behind the stage.
Because even the behind the stage seats were full.
“Did they sell out?” Molly whispered.
“I’m going to say yes.”
“Holy crap.”
Halfway down the stairs the house lights went dim. Jules activated the torch on her phone and they quickly made their way down the row to their seats. The screams around them were deafening as a single purple line raced around the top screen of the stage set up. Then a simple beep sound created a jagged line like a heart monitor.
Then another.
The heartbeat that crashed through the sound system rumbled through Juliet’s chest. The bassline of the song was achingly tense and powerful. It made her fingers itch. And that hadn’t happened in too many months to count.
A platform came out of the floor with a tall, muscular man with curls dancing in front of his face. He wore a black leather vest with purple flames on it over jet black jeans and battered boots. His bass was gorgeous. A one of a kind Fender in a mirror finish black with…God, was that a lapis inlay?
Lust burned hard in her chest.
Lust for that stage and that guitar and that kind of intense ownership of his instrument.
She remembered a time when that had been her. When that eternal focus had been her entire life. Before love had made room in her chest and forced her to evaluate every atom in her body.
