Her hands stilled and her heart picked up speed. “Girls, why don’t you go get your Uncle Gage a glass of water from the kitchen?”
As they went screaming from the room, Gage’s hand did another foray across her buttocks. “Smart. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“I have my moments.” A smile touched her mouth and she leaned forward, blew on the injured flesh. “Now that it’s cleaned up, it doesn’t look so bad. It should heal nicely.”
Tossing the gauze into the garbage, she set down the disinfectant on the tub beside his thigh, and pulled open a Band-Aid. “Listen, I need to tell you about—”
He leaned forward, and through the thin material of her bra, captured her nipple in his mouth. Lust replaced rational thought, and all she could think about was what Gage was capable of doing to her with his mouth.
With one hand, he shifted the material away from her breast, easing it down until she was fully exposed to his gaze…and his mouth. His tongue flicked across the nipple, his mouth drawing her in, suckling.
Forcing her eyes open, she looked down at his head, dark against the light tan of her skin, and bit her lip. “What are you doing?”
“Taking advantage of you before the girls return,” he mumbled around her nipple, his voice raspy, one hand returning to her waist, the other finding its way to fondle her other breast. He pulled back slightly to look up at her. His eyes were heavy lidded, the irises as dark as the deep ocean depths. He slipped one hand down her side, over her hip, cupped the inside of her thigh and inched upward.
She smiled down at him. “We could be quick.”
A screech came from the kitchen.
With a laugh, he eased his hand back to her waist. “Not that quick.”
Harley watched Gage come to his feet, all six-foot-two inches of tightly restrained desire. She felt faint, lightheaded, weak-kneed. He caught her by the chin, lifted her face so she could look into the burning need in his eyes.
“Even though they’re killing my sex life, I’ve kind of grown attached to them.” His head inched closer till his breath whispered across her lips. “I’ve kind of grown attached to you, too. I’m warning you, honey, you’re in serious trouble. Because, woman, I can’t stay away from you. I don’t want to stay away from you anymore.”
Bare feet slapped on the hallway floor as the girls came running. Harley backed away from Gage and straightened her bra, then turned to put away the first aid supplies. As the girls led Gage out of the bathroom, she took a deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror.
“What are you doing?” she whispered at her reflection. “He’ll break your heart into a million, zillion pieces.”
But it was no longer her biggest concern because now he was going to break the twins’ hearts, too.
If you ever want a family with my son, you’ll keep this incident and your suspicions to yourself.
She had no choice because she couldn’t turn her back, not even if it cost her the man she loved. If she said nothing, she’d lose him in the end anyway.
No more waiting, no more using the twins as an excuse.
She took a deep breath, and followed him and the girls into the kitchen. “Your mom and dad were here this afternoon. I noticed she had a black eye and when I questioned her about it, she said she fell—”
The desire in his gaze vanished in a heartbeat, replaced with a fury she’d never seen before. In a heartbeat, he was gone.
Be very, very afraid.
Gage was right about one thing. He had his father’s temper. But Harley knew the whole truth.
He also had his mother’s sweet soul.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
By the time Gage arrived at his parents’ house, fear for his mom had been replaced by a burning rage. It swelled in his chest, pumped through his veins, and threatened to shatter everything he’d started to believe in.
Without knocking, he charged into the house and came face to face with his dad. “Where is she?”
“Leave your mother alone. She’s ill—”
Barely holding onto his temper, he shouldered his way past his dad.
“Because you beat the crap out of her again, didn’t you?” Gage scanned the living room, then headed into the kitchen and stopped cold.
A chill raced down his spine.
Why hadn’t he noticed it before?
Just like when he’d been a child in this house, everything looked perfect. Not a single thing was out of place. Not even a speck of dust on the top of the fridge.
A jolt of pain shot through his heart.
His old man might look feeble now, but he was still a monster.
Men like his father—men like himself—couldn’t be trusted, couldn’t be cured.
He ground his molars together and backtracked toward the hallway. “Where is she?”
“This is none of your business, boy. What happens in this house is between your mother and me.”
“Not any more.” Sorrow erupted from deep inside. He’d wanted to believe his dad was cured, wanted to believe it so bad, he’d brought Harley and the twins into his own home to keep them safe. He’d been wrong, selfish.
Poking his head into each room he passed, aware of his dad following close behind, he finally reached the bedroom.
His mom sat on the edge of the bed, sorrow in her big beautiful eyes, guilt trembling on her lips. “Get packed, Mom.”
His dad shouldered his way past and planted himself in Gage’s path. “Get out of my house.”
“I’m taking Mom with me.”
The old man snorted. “She’ll be back within the week.”
He kept his voice soft, smooth, while the fury bunched in his gut and his fists. “Not this time. Now get out of her way or else.”
His dad slammed the end of his cane down on the floor. “Or else what?”
The only thing the old bastard understood was violence. “Do you really want to find out?”
“You can’t be with her every moment of the day and night.”
Over the old geezer’s shoulder, he caught the trepidation on his mom’s face, saw the bruise on her eye. And all he could think about was that his dad had been hurting the people he loved.
Again.
Nobody was going to hurt them ever again.
Gage gave in to the monster and lurched forward, grabbed his dad by the front of his sweater, and hauled him up on his toes.
His mom cried out, “Stop it. You’re hurting him.”
He glanced across the room, saw the fear on her face.
She’s afraid. Not of her husband this time, but of me.
A smidgen of sanity clawed its way into his brain. He released his grip, shoved the old man back, and as his dad lost his balance, Gage reached out to steady him.
Easing down on his anger, careful to keep his hands to himself, he kept his manner and voice so utterly calm, he almost frightened himself. “Get packed, Mom.”
His dad sent him a wary look. Rubbing his left shoulder, he glanced at his wife. “I got a little angry, that’s all. I’ve said I’m sorry, Fran. I promise it won’t happen again.”
But Gage knew his dad wouldn’t keep that promise. Couldn’t.
“No, sir, it won’t.” For his mom’s sake, he kept his voice soft. “Because she’s never coming back here again. Do you understand? You’ll have to find someone else to be your punching bag.”
Fury still pumped through his veins. He turned his back on his dad and faced his mom. “Get a suitcase packed. You’re coming to stay with me.”
She hesitated. Her gaze shot past him and worry creased her brow. “Oh no, your dad—”
He followed her gaze over his shoulder.
The old man rubbed his left arm, shuffled across the bedroom toward the end of the bed, his face pasty in the bright sunlight, and toppled to the floor.
His mom fell to her knees at his side. “Call 911. I think your dad’s having another heart attack.”
Hours later, Gage sat at the hospital with his mom, his dad
now sleeping peacefully thanks to the staff’s efficient care. Both his parents looked as though they’d aged ten years and he felt as though he’d aged right along with them.
Ever since they’d arrived, his mom had avoided him, careful to keep her sunglasses on while the hospital staff bustled around them, careful to keep the bruised side of her face turned away from him.
But now that they were alone in the room, she’d removed the sunglasses and set them on her lap.
Gage knew she’d try to brush this incident off as she’d done so dozens of times over the years. But this time he wouldn’t allow it.
Couldn’t allow it.
He kept his voice quiet, his fury reined. “You lied to me, Mom. Why?”
She ignored his question. “I’m okay here by myself. You should go back home and clean up the mess the girls made so it doesn’t upset your father again.”
Careful not to spook her, he reached out, placed his index finger against her chin, and turned her face his way. One look at the bruise around her eye and pain exploded in his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me this was still going on? I could’ve helped you.”
She turned her face forward so he could no longer see the bruise, and stared down at her lap where the remnants of a tissue lay shredded. “I knew you could never be happy unless you believed that your father could be cured.”
“And Mike?”
A sob escaped her, but she stiffened her back, turned to look at him, and grabbed his arm. “He’s a good boy. He’s never hurt his family. But now—I’m so afraid for him.”
“I’ll make sure Mike gets whatever help he needs.” Gage covered her hands with one of his own. “Why stay and put up with the abuse?”
“I love your father,” she said simply. “He’s a good man.”
Gage grunted in response. “I’m not leaving you there, you know that, don’t you?”
Her bottom lip trembled. “I’m afraid. Where would I go?”
With her clinging to his hand, openly weeping now, Gage put his arm around her narrow shoulders and gathered her to his chest. “You’ll live with me. I should have done this years ago.”
He’d isolated himself on purpose, intent on breaking the family curse. Instead he’d caused more damage and not been there when they needed him the most.
He’d failed Mike. He’d failed his mom.
While his mom sobbed quietly against his chest, he ran his hand down his face, felt the roughness of his whiskers, thought that he’d have to shave before he hurt Harley’s tender skin.
Then he remembered.
There wouldn’t be a repeat, not ever again.
If his dad couldn’t be cured, if Mike’s gentle personality hid the monstrous gene, what hope did Gage have of keeping a family safe?
He pushed to his feet and tugged his mom up with him. “Come on. I’m taking you home to pack. From now on, I’ll deal with Dad.”
And with his mom at his side, he walked out of the room and out of the hospital into the bright sunlight, his feet heavy with resolution, his emotions tightly controlled.
He’d been a fool to think he could keep Harley safe.
He’d been a fool to believe he could ever love her without hurting her in the process.
There was no cure for this disease.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The back door clicked open, clicked shut again. Footsteps came up the steps, moved through the kitchen. Across from Harley, Laura’s head lifted and her eyes lit up. A moment later, Lisa followed suit.
The twins stayed silent, sitting cross-legged on the floor, pieces of a puzzle scattered on the coffee table before them. Harley closed her eyes, swiped at the dampness on her cheeks, and took a deep breath.
Now wasn’t the time to fall apart, not when it felt like this fragile beginning was about to come crashing down. For the sake of the girls, she needed to hold it together.
Gage paused in the entryway, tall and broad shouldered and strong, his gaze flitting from her face to the girls. She caught her breath at the image of his body silhouetted in the sunlight—all power and grace and security. Everything she’d been looking for her entire life.
“Are you girls okay?”
Harley nodded. “We’re fine.” Slowly, she pushed to her feet, and Laura and Lisa followed her up. Somehow without a discussion, the three of them were all in sync, afraid if they moved too fast, they’d scare him off. “How’s your mom?”
His gaze stayed on her, serious and somber and regretful, as though he’d been the one to throw the first punch. “I took her home and convinced her to pack. She’s finally going to leave the bastard.”
Lisa lifted her hand to her mouth and whispered, “Quarter.”
A half smile lifted one edge of Gage’s mouth and he turned his attention to the younger twin. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of change, and flipped her a quarter. “You’ll take care of that for me, won’t you, sugarplum?”
She caught the coin and nodded.
Gage’s gaze flickered back to Harley, then moved somewhere in the vicinity of the girls. Emotion fractured the stone-like features of his face before he blanked out his expression again. “Dad had another heart attack. We took him to the hospital. They’ve stabilized his condition and are keeping him under observation for now.”
Laura stepped forward, hands clasped behind her back, one toe grinding into the carpet. “We’re sorry we made your daddy’s heart mad, Unca Gage.”
“It was my fault,” Lisa interjected. “I broke the flowers.”
Laura risked closing the distance between them, crooked her index finger up at his tall imposing frame, and Gage hunkered down to her level, a big man with a gentle personality.
“You can’t feed Lisa so much sugar, Unca Gage. We all make mi’takes, right? You’ll forgive her, won’t you?”
“You bet I will.” He motioned Lisa forward. “Come here, sugarplum.”
Lisa skipped across the room and threw her arms around Gage’s neck and held on tight. He closed one arm around her waist while he drew Laura into a similar embrace with his other arm.
Lisa squeezed her tiny arms around his neck. “I’s sorry, Unca Gage.”
He fixed his attention on the younger twin. “It looks like a tornado hit my back yard. What happened?”
Laura jumped in to protect her sister. “My fault, Unca Gage.”
Shifting his arm from around her back, he ruffled her hair. “It’s okay, sugarplum. I’ve got this one covered.”
He refocused on the younger twin. “Why would you destroy the flowers? Your grandpa put a lot of hard work into making them beautiful.”
She wiggled onto one of his legs and cuddled against his chest, her voice soft and timid and sorrowful. “I like to ’quish the dirt between my toes. Are you gonna ’pank me now, like mean old Grandpa says?”
“Maybe I should.”
Laura grabbed his chin and turned his face—and his attention—her way. She said one word. “Pancakes.”
Harley saw something in his expression shift and grow lighter, and the fear drained from her body.
If you ever want a family with my son, you’ll keep this incident and your suspicions to yourself.
Frances had been wrong.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
It hit Gage that he was as much at fault as was Lisa.
More so.
After all, he was the adult. He’d known better than to feed the twins all that sugar. And yet, he’d done so anyway and screwed up big time.
He kept his focus on the twins, simply because they were easier to face than the woman he loved.
Loved.
It made him want to laugh at the hopelessness of his situation, but he was afraid he’d end up crying instead.
He kissed Laura on the forehead. “Pancakes. You’re right. No more pancakes with endless syrup.”
“Kiss me, too,” Lisa demanded, and as he bussed her on the forehead, she whispered in his ear, “I don’t like the bad grandpa.”
His heart squeezed painfully, but he kept his voice light. “Can’t say I blame you, sugarplum. Don’t much like him myself.”
Laura wrapped her arms around his neck. “Aunt Harley p’tected us. She was brave, like you.”
He shifted his gaze across the room.
To the long legs that only last night had been wrapped around his waist while he made sweet love with her in the shower.
Up to her beautiful face, which was filled with compassion and understanding. “Your aunt’s a real gem.”
The memory of waking with her in his arms filled him with a longing so intense, he didn’t know how he was going to face her again without going all caveman on her.
And when she someday fell in love and married—
Tears stung his eyes. He blinked them away, returned his attention to the twins, and slowly straightened, allowing the girls to slide off his legs and land firmly feet first on the floor.
“We luv you, Unca Gage,” Laura whispered and beside her, Lisa nodded and said, “I luv you, too.”
Taken off guard, he froze.
Across the room, Harley came forward, crouched down between the girls, and put her arms around their shoulders.
And what he saw in her clear honest gaze made him wish he could take back the feel of her in his arms, the love that both shredded his heart and made him whole.
She shrugged a slim shoulder and gave him an apologetic smile. “I guess it’s unanimous, Gage, because I love you, too.”
Panic infused his body and he backed up a step, raked a hand through his hair.
She was so tiny and fragile, helpless against a man his size.
And if she thought he could keep her safe—keep the twins safe—she was as foolish as his mom.
Clearing the thickness from his throat, he said, “Don’t look at me like that.”
Confusion clouded her soft mocha eyes. “Like what?”
“With trust.”
Her words branded his heart forever. “With love comes trust.”
Family. Future. Forever.
It was all within his grasp, and the temptation to take what he wanted and ignore the consequences nearly made him cave.
Terms of Surrender Page 21
