Something I’d just read preyed on my deepest subconscious thoughts that tormented me most recently. It was like opening Pandora’s box and letting out a demon.
My greatest fear was once a pool. While I still loathed any body of water, the top spot it once occupied was now held by something else.
My inability to conceive.
What if Evie was my only chance to give Romeo a baby?
What if whatever made me lose her would also prevent me from ever getting pregnant again?
Romeo
The tension that had parked itself between my shoulder blades the second Trent texted last night finally eased when the gates to our compound came into view.
B was driving; we were in his cobalt-blue Ford F-150 Tuscany Shelby Cobra. Since we traveled so much, we alternated between whose car we left at the team’s airstrip. This was a badass truck, and it came in handy having something so big, with so much hauling capability (especially when we moved), but I missed my Hellcat and itched to get behind the wheel.
“I’ve missed this place,” B said, his words mirroring my thoughts.
I grunted in agreement as my eyes swept the area near the gate, making sure everything was as it should be.
We moved here right before Rim got pregnant. The place had taken a while to build. But the wait had been worth it. Our home—our family compound—was everything I envisioned it to be.
I’m not talking about what colors the walls were or the type of appliances in the kitchen. Not that those things didn’t matter. Well, shit, they didn’t. Not to me. But Ivy and Rim cared, so that meant they were important.
I was more concerned with safety, privacy, and the security of our family.
You might think with so many people living on the same property, it might have been hard to settle on something, but it wasn’t. It hadn’t been hard at all.
We all wanted the same things. The girls just wanted them to be prettier than the rest of us.
My father told me about some land up for sale on the edge of town, not quite as far out as the back roads where B and Ivy went to have sex in the bed of his truck or where Drew and Trent went to speed, but in that general direction.
It ended up being perfect for what we wanted. Twenty acres of grass and trees, plus some rolling hills. It probably would have made great farmland, but we weren’t farmers.
I was just a man who wanted as much privacy and security as I could get for my family. Besides the fact Braeden was like a vicious bear when anyone looked at Nova, Drew and Trent needed a place they could be without having the press up their asses.
But that wasn’t all.
Rimmel was my main priority. I wanted to know, when I was on the road for football, she would be protected. And maybe, just maybe, something whispered deep inside me that she and I were going to need a place like this.
I was kinda sorry to be right.
The entire property was surrounded by a six-foot stone wall. Not the fake-looking shit made to look like stone either. Legit stone from the earth. It was sturdy and stable. Made for a nice barrier.
It wasn’t cheap. In fact, it was fucking expensive as hell. I didn’t care. You couldn’t put a price on piece of mind.
Because the stone wall was made of natural stone, it blended in with the landscape of the property. Trees and large bushes hung over it and grew in front of it. The workers who built it bitched a lot because I wouldn’t let them cut down all the nature. It made for an interesting work environment. Whatever. They were getting paid.
If I wanted a bare-ass wall with nothing around it, I would have bought in an overpriced subdivision. Trees were added privacy. Besides, Rimmel liked them. She especially liked when they changed colors and dropped those colors all over the property.
The gate itself was thick, solid wood, stained a dark brown with black wrought-iron accents at the top. We made it like that on purpose. Again, it was more expense, but we wanted something the stalkerazzi couldn’t stick their lenses through to take pics.
It was a double gate; on each side was a thick stone column, and on top were two large lanterns. Since it was late morning now, they weren’t illuminated.
B pressed a button on the remote inside his car, and the gates swung open, slowly revealing the interior of the property. Once there was enough space, he drove in and hit the button again. The truck sat idle while we waited for the gates to close behind us.
The compound sat back away from the gate, deeper on the property, thus giving us even more privacy. The road that led to the houses was freshly paved with dark tar, and it wound gracefully through the thick, green grass and mature trees.
As we drove, leaves that littered the pavement flew up and twisted in the breeze, scattering out around and fluttering behind in our wake. When we finally crested the highest hill on the drive, the house came into full view.
Being a guy who’d always known money, nice shit wasn’t something new to me.
But this place was on a different level.
Since it wasn’t just my and Rim’s house, but the entire family’s, a lot went into it. We all pitched in money, too. With me, B, and Drew having high-income contracts for sports, add in Ivy’s high-profile job with People and the revenue from her YouTube channel (Seriously, people made a lot of moneymaking videos… Who fucking knew?), and Trent’s job with the NRR, cash wasn’t exactly an issue.
The front exterior of the home was stone, just like the wall. It was a mix of earthy tones like light and dark browns with some gray and deep blue. Actually, it wasn’t a home.
It was a mansion.
Rimmel would shit a brick if I ever called it that around her. My girl didn’t want extravagance. That’s probably what made our place even better. It wasn’t ostentatious or overstated. It was just huge. But so very homey and comfortable.
The stone home was European inspired; that’s what the builder said. The girls basically pointed to a picture and said that’s what they liked. I didn’t really know what made it European. It looked like a big stone house to me. It was a sprawling two-story with lots of white-framed windows and chimneys. The roofline was multi-pitched and seemed to go on forever.
The front door was a huge, rounded-top, double wood thing with monstrous iron handles. The eave over it was also rounded and rose high, which made room for a large chandelier to hang and illuminate overhead.
On the right side of the house was a six-car garage. It was attached to the structure by a breezeway with the same stone framing but with glass walls. It allowed the family to move from the garage into the house free of the elements while still enjoying the view.
The house itself had eight bedrooms and ten bathrooms. The place also featured a huge home gym (obviously) with a sauna, a home theatre, and a game room with two bowling lanes.
On our side of the house, Rimmel had a library and home office where she often worked on stuff for the shelter. I found her there a lot in front of the huge picture window, sitting in a chair that would fit likely ten of her, with apple cider, a blanket, and a book. The fireplace operated on gas and lit with a single flip of the switch, so it was always on.
She always looked so tiny yet so cuddly, lost in the cushions, with her black-framed glasses perched on her nose and her wild, dark hair in a mess from hunkering down in the chair.
Note: I’d never admit to calling her cuddly. That shit would get my man card revoked.
Rimmel’s library had accents of yellow, though.
Yellow was her favorite color. It reminded her of her mother.
It reminded me of her.
There was a cold breeze in the air this morning, sort of like the day hadn’t warmed up with the sun, and the small evergreens planted between each garage door and dotting the landscaping in front of the house all moved a little with the way it blew.
The garage door opened as we approached, and Braeden drove right inside. I didn’t spare a second, instead vaulting out of the cab, leaving my bags in the back.
I did throw a glan
ce at my shiny green Cat on the way past. Since I was in such a hurry, I almost missed the fact Rim’s Range Rover wasn’t in its normal spot.
Almost.
What the fuck? Worry pierced through the relief I felt to be home, and I began to question if maybe I should have called when the plane landed. I’d thought to surprise her when I walked in… but now it seemed I was the one getting the surprise.
I didn’t like that shit.
What if something was wrong? What if something happened?
Where the fuck was she?
“What’s wrong?” B asked, coming up behind me.
“Rim’s car isn’t here.”
“Maybe Trent has it, doing an oil change or something.”
His thought process was a lot calmer than mine. Bastard.
“Yeah, probably,” I said, refusing to show my concern. With renewed determination, I strode toward the door.
I’d been hoping to get home earlier. I always liked to sneak in when she was in still in bed and I could slip between the covers and wake her up with my body. It was already late morning, though, so I knew she’d be up, but I still anticipated seeing her likely drowning in sweats.
The way her eyes lit up when she saw me still made me feel like the man.
I’d never get tired of the way Rim made me feel.
Please, God, just let her missing car be nothing.
Me and B moved through the breezeway quickly and to the door leading into the house. I flung it open into the large laundry/mud room and barely registered a glance at the large washing machines, dryers, and deep sink.
“Rim!” I bellowed as I moved across the light-colored tile.
I heard her make a small sound of surprise from out in the open kitchen and grinned to myself. She’s okay. Everything is okay.
Movement in the doorway caused my steps to quicken, and I braced myself for her slight weight to be flung in my general direction.
But it wasn’t Rim that launched at me first.
It was a dog.
A dog that was not Prada or Darcy.
Yes, we had two dogs now.
Braeden and I both faltered and looked at each other, then back at the dog who was standing there sniffing the air in our general direction like it was trying to decide if we were friend or foe.
“Did you know about this?” Braeden asked.
“Why would I know about it?” I countered.
He made a rude sound. “‘Cause your woman drags home animals on a daily basis.”
The dog in question started barking.
I rolled my eyes.
In a flurry of movement, Rimmel rushed through the door, Darcy right on her heels. Darcy took one look at me and leapt forward, rushing right past my wife and nearly taking her out.
Rim made a sound and pitched forward, knocked over by the dog and her gigantic sweatpants. Braeden and I both lunged forward. I beat him and swung her up as she fell into my arms.
“Hey, baby.” I grinned down at her as chaos literally reigned around my feet.
It was a typical day at the compound.
She looked up at me through her dark-framed glasses and past her wild hair. “You’re home!” she squeaked, breathless.
“Tell me you missed me,” I demanded loud, over the dogs jumping and barking.
“I missed you.” Her hands wrapped around my neck, and she pushed close into my chest. I inhaled her scent, and instantly, all was right in my world.
“Tutor girl, what the hell is this?” Braeden wondered, interrupting my moment of sniffing my wife.
I made a mental note to get back at him later.
She perked up away from me a little and glanced over at B, who was scowling at the strange, rather large dog taking up the doorway while it barked its head off and refused to allow him through.
“You best move out the way, beast,” he told it. “I got places to be.”
Rimmel laughed and patted my chest. Reluctantly, I stood her on her feet but caught one of her hands in mine.
“It’s okay, boy,” she told the dog, stepped forward, and held out her hand. “Easy. They’re friends.”
The dark stopped barking and looked at Rim. “Come here.” She snapped her fingers. Instantly, the large dog trotted over to her and licked her fingers.
She giggled.
“Rimmel…” I partially sighed.
She glanced up, a little guilty.
Braeden cackled, leaned over, and kissed Rim on the temple. “Hey, sis.” He pulled back, glanced up at me, and smirked as he motioned at the dog. “Have fun with that. I got a wife and baby to kiss.”
He disappeared instantly and left me alone with the dogs and Rimmel. Speaking of dogs. Darcy was dancing impatiently around my feet, so I dropped down and held out my hands.
Darcy was a black-and-white Border Collie that Rim brought home from work not long after she had the miscarriage. The life in her eyes when she sat on the floor to play with him was all I needed to see.
When I asked her what his name was, she promptly announced Mr. Darcy after one of the dudes in the books she reads so much. I wasn’t about to call any dog Mr., so we settled on Darcy.
Murphy was a little put off, but other than that, Darcy fit right in, and just like that, there were two dogs and a one-eyed cat in this house. It wasn’t like I didn’t expect our animal count to grow. Hell, that was one of the reasons I bought twenty acres.
“Hey, buddy,” I said and scratched him behind the ears. He licked me in the face a couple good ones, and I winced. I noticed one of his toys nearby, and I picked it up and threw it out the door, somewhere into the kitchen. He rushed after it, and I stood.
Rimmel shuffled from one foot to the other and gave me a smile. She was wearing my hoodie, the sleeves so long they covered her hands. The dog in question was at her side, staring at me like he still wasn’t sure what to make of me.
I dropped back down and held out my hand.
He came forward tentatively and gave my fingers a sniff.
“How long’s he been here?” I asked.
“Five days,” she replied reluctantly.
I laughed. “And you never mentioned him?”
“Someone brought him into the shelter just before closing the other night. It was during that terrible thunderstorm we had. They’d found him in the middle of the road, soaking wet and scared.” She began.
I glanced at the dog, knowing where this was going.
“He was so upset from the storm. I couldn’t just lock up and leave him there. Poor thing.” The empathy in her voice was so sincere. The dog wagged his tail. It’s like even he knew he hit the jackpot the second she laid her eyes on him.
My girl… Sometimes I wondered how the hell her heart fit inside her chest.
“So I brought him home and cleaned him up. Poor thing was starved! It was only supposed to be that one night. But he never left my side the next day, not even at the shelter. He stayed with me no matter where I went. When I was packing up to leave that afternoon, he sat by the door and looked at me…” Her voice trailed off.
I rubbed my hand over my face and hid a smile.
“What’s his name?” I didn’t even bother hiding the acceptance in my voice. Like I’d deny her anything.
“Really?” she asked, her voice hopeful.
I chuckled. “Duh.”
“Ralph.”
I blinked. “What?”
“His name is Ralph.”
I glanced at the dog. He’d come closer to me, and I was scratching behind his ear like I’d done with Darcy. I had no idea what kind of dog he was. Frankly, he wasn’t all that attractive.
Wasn’t all that attractive = ugly.
He was adorned with plain brown fur, some white speckles on his ass, one white leg and ears that looked a little big for his head. One of those big ears had a literal chunk missing from it. Like someone took a big ol’ bite out of it. Oh, and his eyes were two different colors. Not a nice green and blue either. More like a poop-brown color for one a
nd then a more diluted yellow shade for the other.
Frankly, it was a little creepy.
His looks just made it seem even more unfortunate she named him Ralph. I patted him on the head, and he wagged his tail. Someone had to help this dog. Rim was obviously too kindhearted to understand the least she could do for an ugly mutt like this was give him a badass name.
I straightened and looked at her. “What the hell kind of name is Ralph?”
Rimmel gasped and rushed to put her hands over the dog’s floppy, half-chewed ears. “Roman Anderson!” she gasped. “He’ll hear you!”
“Baby, I’m sure even he thinks that’s a terrible name,” I said, dry.
She gasped again. “He likes it!” she demanded. “Just watch!”
She turned toward the dog. “What’s your name, boy?”
He gave a bark. It was quite the ear-splitting sound… and yeah. It totally sounded like he said Ralph.
God help me.
“See!” She insisted and pointed at the dog.
I rubbed a hand along my jaw, then the back of my neck. “Welcome to the family, Ralph,” I said.
Rimmel squealed and launched herself at me. I caught her as her legs wrapped around my waist. That was the stuff.
“I love you,” she said and peppered my face with kisses.
Ralph barked.
Seriously. How the fuck was I going to call this dog Ralph?
“He likes you!” She bounced against me. Down in my sweats, my cock tingled. I was horny as hell. Her crazy antics were just making me want her more.
“And just what would you have done if he attacked me when I walked in, Mrs. Anderson?” I asked as I carried her into the wide-open kitchen.
“Trent and Drew have extra space. I’d come visit you,” she deadpanned.
I jerked to a stop and stared down at her incredulously. She tried to hide her smile, and I lifted a single eyebrow.
She laughed.
The sound of her laughter fell away when my lips latched onto hers. I swallowed down the sound as I kissed her deep. Her happiness was the best flavor I’d ever sampled. Her shape was the best thing my hands had ever touched.
Her arms wound around my neck, her small body pressed as near as possible, and we melted together as my tongue swept into her mouth and explored as if it hadn’t been there for years rather than weeks.
#Bae (The Hashtag Series Book 8) Page 4
