by Lynda Chance
He cracked a half-smile, and asked, just to be sure, “Are you ready?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes.”
His temples began to throb. “They’re going to try to get you to go with them.”
“I know.”
He felt his nostrils flare, his need for dominance suddenly racing back to the surface “But you’re not going anywhere, you know that, right?”
“I’m staying right here.”
At her affirmative words, he let out a breath. “Okay, let’s do this.” Without waiting for an answer, he leaned in and kissed Erin long and hard, reveling in the overwhelming sense of ownership he felt—and the certainty that he was pissing her brothers off as they glared down from their vantage point on the porch. When he released her, he made quick work of walking around to the passenger side and helping her from the vehicle, the rain a slow, miserable drizzle making the going slow.
They came to a stop within five feet or so of the front porch and he positioned her in front of him, locking his arms around her waist. He wanted to give her brothers a visual of what they were facing: the two of them, united. At least, he hoped so. There was still the tiniest kernel of doubt fucking with his brain that would only be laid to rest when her brothers left without her. But for now, he steeled his resolve and prepared for the confrontation that awaited him.
He didn’t have to wait long. Garrett pushed his way between two of Max’s men and came down the steps until he stood only inches away. The guy looked exactly as he had when Max had met him only months before. Fierce. Formidable. Bristling with anger. Then without saying a word, Garrett reached out, grabbed Erin’s hand and began pulling her toward him.
Max felt Erin’s muscles stiffen in rejection and it gave him a measure of internal peace to know that she wasn’t choosing her brothers over him. He needed that peace for what was about to go down—he could tell by the looks of his men that they were barely controlling themselves, not drawing their weapons—yet. He tightened his arm around Erin’s waist, holding her in place for the moment as he leaned down, close to her ear, speaking softly to her, but loud enough for the others to hear. “It’s just your brother, baby, he means you no harm.” Garrett’s eyes turned livid when Max said those words. While maintaining steady eye contact with Garrett, Max continued to soothe his wife as he stated his case with succinct words. “You and I know they’re never going to take you away from me, and understanding that fact is going to be tough for them. So, why don’t you give him a hug and tell him you’re all right?”
Max loosened his hold just barely, but it was enough to allow Garrett to pull her into his embrace. The other man’s arms went around Erin and he gripped her tightly as she returned the embrace.
As Max stood directly behind Erin, he watched as her other two brothers came down the steps to join them. One by one, they each embraced her, although it was easy for Max to read the contempt they held for him in their eyes. What else had he expected?
Shit started to go downhill immediately. Damian was the last to hug Erin. After the embrace, he held her by the upper arms and looked her over, as if inspecting her. He frowned harshly and said to his sister, “We’re leaving in five minutes. Go get what you need—Nick will go with you.”
When Erin made no move to comply with his orders, Damian glared at Max and snapped, “Nick?”
Nick took one step forward. “Right here, brother.”
Not taking his eyes from Max, Damian said, “Take her to get her stuff, will you?”
“Nothing would please me more,” her middle brother hissed out contemptuously as he turned and stared solidly at Max before stating, “I’m damn sure not letting her out of my sight.”
Max clenched his jaw. He was about to intervene when Erin dug her heels in and announced, “I’m not going anywhere.” A blush of pink highlighted her cheekbones as she looked from one brother to the next. “I’m married now—you guys can’t tell me what to do anymore. I’m staying here with Max.”
Pandemonium broke out. All three brothers started yelling at once; Max’s men came down the steps and encircled them, weapons drawn.
Max felt a rush of apprehension that caught him full force. Loaded weapons and short tempers were unacceptable at such close range to his wife. He held up his hand to his men and shouted, “Weapons down. Now.”
His employees did what he asked and Max took a step forward. Positioning himself in front of Erin, he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, a wave of fury encompassing him. “We’re good here,” he snapped to his men, “I’ve got this—get back to work.”
One by one, his men trailed away and when they were gone, he crossed his arms over his chest and faced his wife’s siblings. “We can go inside and hash this out like reasonable adults or we can have it out here and now, while standing in mud. But either way, my wife is going inside—she’s wet and she’s cold and that’s unacceptable to me, understand?”
Not waiting to see if they understood or not, Max made a grab for Erin’s hand and began leading her inside—and he was infinitely pleased as she adjusted her wrist, entwining her fingers with his.
Marisol rushed towards them in obvious relief, holding a blanket in her arms. As his housekeeper clucked over his wet, bedraggled wife, Max allowed Marisol the moment she needed to make sure that Erin was safe. As the two women embraced, Max glanced back at the Rule brothers and saw that their faces wore expressions of disbelief.
Once they were inside, Max was aware that the Rule brothers followed behind them. Erin moved to take the lead and Max let her, allowing her to walk toward the atrium where she took a seat and then indicated that her brothers should do the same.
Max walked toward the drink cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon as he concentrated on Erin’s brothers. They’d declined to take a seat, only stood looking around, almost as if taken aback by something they hadn’t expected.
Max glanced at Erin and found her watching him, a smile on her lips. She tilted her head toward the bottle in his hand and mouthed silently, “Maker’s?”
He returned her smile and shrugged, knowing she was on to him. So, he had it bad for her—so what? He’d had the entire house redone during the months he’d stalked her on the Internet. He’d also made sure that Marisol and his cook knew what her favorite foods were. Those were simple things he’d done to make sure she was happy here—so what?
He put five glasses on a tray and poured Maker’s in each—neat. Pacing over to where Erin sat, he placed the tray on the coffee table in front of her and handed her a glass. She took it from him, her fingers sliding over his before she took a small sip, her eyes holding his with a look that promised more. He wanted more—shit yeah, he did. Unable to stop himself and feeling no need to deny himself, he leaned over and sampled her lips. He tasted the lushness of her mouth, the sweetness that was her, and the hint of Maker’s that reminded him of the first time he’d met her. He lifted away slightly and said low, for her ears only, “Tastes good.”
She smiled back and her lips parted as if about to say something—but her damn brother broke in before Max was able to know what teasing quip he’d missed out on.
“Motherfucker—he’s in love with her.”
It was her middle brother who said it, and as Max rose to his full height, her oldest brother agreed. “He damn sure is.”
Max had a front row view when Erin broke into an enchanting smile, but before he could acknowledge the truth of their statements, Garrett broke in.
“Fuck no, he’s not. Son-of-a-bitch has no fucking heart. He’s fooled both of you, and you, too, Erin!”
It was as if one brother’s rage made the other two rethink their positions. As all three stood watching him suspiciously, Max decided to bury the bullshit before it went on any further. Not love her? Of course he loved her. And he could prove it.
Picking up a glass, he took a drink, swallowing half the liquor down. This was it—Erin either loved him or she didn’t. He prayed like fuck that she did.
&nb
sp; He set the glass down and moved to the end of the sofa where he stood next to where Erin sat but where he could see each of her brothers’ expressions. They stood facing him, each refusing to take a glass even though Erin had indicated that they should.
Narrowing his eyes and squaring his jaw, Max put his hands on his hips and announced, “I love your sister.”
Damian and Nick stood silently; Garrett hissed, “Bullshit,” under his breath.
Max didn’t flinch, although he felt the need to brace himself. There was a distinct chance that he wouldn’t get to finish the point he wanted to make, and he wanted to be prepared if one or more of them came at him. “Erin, sweetheart, tell your brothers what I said would happen to their corporation if you didn’t stay here with me.”
It was Nick who exploded this time. “Goddamnit!” he swore as he started to come forward.
Max held up a hand. “Just a fucking second, okay?”
Erin reached up and grabbed his hand as she stared up at him. “You want me to tell them?”
“Yes.”
“The truth?” she asked, gasping.
“Yes, love.” He squeezed her hand in reassurance. “I want you to tell them what I said I would do to their business if you didn’t stay here with me.”
She looked horrified for a moment. “They’re going to be pissed!”
“They’re already pissed—just tell them.”
With a look that said she didn’t understand, Erin continued to hold his hand while she turned and looked at her brothers. “He said he’d flatten your business—that he’d make the corporation fall if I didn’t stay here with him.”
Max knew he had about two seconds to start talking before her brothers rushed him; he could already hear the protests they were about to make. “How was I going to accomplish that exactly, love?”
Erin looked at him with worried eyes. As she watched him, an unspoken connection passed between them and her eyes softened as her worry fled—as if she knew where he was going with this. She broke into a smile and said slowly, “You wouldn’t say. And I couldn’t figure it out. My brothers are smart and I told you so. I told you they didn’t have any debt—I saw no way you could back up what you were threatening to do. I thought you were bluffing but I was too worried about my family to call you on it.”
As he listened to her sweet voice, Max almost forgot her brothers were there. He was completely tantalized by her allure as he dropped to his haunches beside her. Holding her palm in his, his other hand snaked up and his fingers sank into her hair. Her eyes held his and he felt his heart turn over. He took a deep breath and finally, he came clean to her. “I was bluffing, sweetheart. I’ve got nothing on your brothers.”
He braced for her fury, thinking it was probably no more than he deserved. Instead, thank God, her eyes glistened with a sheen of happy tears. “You were bluffing?”
“I was bluffing.”
“So … if I go back with them, there’s nothing you can do to them?”
“There’s nothing I can do to them,” he admitted, bracing himself once again—just in case.
Her gaze was intent, compelling, and he felt an arrow of love pierce his heart, flowing from her eyes into his. In that moment, he knew without a doubt that she saw everything he had done, and that she knew everything that was in his heart. That she understood and all was forgiven. She watched him for about two seconds before she mouthed, “I love you.”
His heart twisted and he gave it back to her—for everybody to hear. “I love you, too, sweetness.”
He stood and drew her into his arms and they held each other as they heard the grudging admissions and final protests that came from her brothers as they talked among themselves.
“Shit—the motherfucker does love her—we’re going to have to let her stay.”
“Un-fucking-believable. Who could have guessed?”
“Erin, are you sure about this, sweetheart? You’re sure you want to stay with this guy, in Argentina, so far from your family?”
Max’s heart stuttered for a second, before Erin’s fierce, impassioned words calmed him and he was able to release the breath he’d unconsciously been holding. “Max is my husband, he’s my first consideration now—just like Maria, Angie and Courtney come first with you. I’m Erin Villarreal now, not Erin Rule any more. We’re happy, in love and married, and we’re staying married. I love you guys, but you have to let me go.”
The Rule males looked at each other for a long moment, communicating silently before their bodies relaxed infinitesimally as they conceded without words that their little sister had indeed grown up. That she wasn’t their responsibility any more. That she was now Erin Villarreal.
Max relaxed fully, his adoring, heated gaze fixed on his wife. Not even the dark threat in Garrett’s voice could affect him now. “This doesn’t mean we’re not watching you—remember what I said, Villarreal—you hurt her and we’ll come for you.”
Max looked into the other man’s eyes, even as his arms tightened around Erin. His wife. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
****
Epilogue
Three years later, after many happy trips to America
Erin brushed a kiss over the sleeping baby’s forehead as she laid Sofia down in her crib. Making a move to adjust the monitor, she stopped when she saw Marisol slip into the room. The other woman smiled and peeked over the crib before settling herself in the rocking chair that was positioned by the window. “Are you going to stay in here while she naps?” Erin asked in a whisper.
Marisol only smiled with a deeply contented expression on her face.
Erin smiled in return before bending down and hugging the older woman. There was no question that the housekeeper had been a lifesaver the last few years. Having children and raising them in Argentina would have been much more difficult without her. Max was certainly a good father, he was a lot of help, really, but tiny babies seemed to … scare him. Erin had to smile at the thought. Nothing really scared Max, although he’d seemed petrified when she’d gone into labor—both times.
She slipped downstairs to join her mother who was entertaining her two-year old son, Jorge Carlos. Justine glanced up from where she was sitting on the floor playing with toy trucks. “Did you get her down?”
“Yes. Marisol’s with her—I swear, that’s one baby who will probably never have to sleep alone.”
Her mother smiled. “It won’t hurt, sweetie. Loving those babies can’t hurt a thing.”
Erin let out a sigh. “I know. Where’s Rick?” she asked.
“He’s outside with Max. Rafael and Nora are just leaving,” her mom answered as she picked up her grandson.
Nora was heavily pregnant—in her eighth month. The pregnancy hadn’t come as a surprise, but the marriage certainly had. “Can you believe they got married?”
“Rafael and Nora? Yes, I can believe it, easily,” her mom chuckled.
“How do you know these things, Mom?” Erin asked, looking at her mom with narrowed eyes. “Your matchmaking skills are supreme.”
“I had nothing to do with those two,” her mother exclaimed.
“Maybe not, but you seem to know when a couple … clicks.”
“Are you referring to Damian and Angie?” her mom asked.
“Well, them, but mostly Nick and Courtney. How did you do that?”
Justine smiled when Jorge Carlos fisted the toy truck and let out a giggle. Erin watched as her mom picked him up and began cooing to him. Her son settled himself against his grandmother’s chest as his eyes found Erin’s and held. Eyes that were so much like his father’s. She sank down on the ground next to them and lifted her finger, smiling indulgently as her son wrapped his fist around it and tried to pull her to him. Like father, like son. “How did you know?” she asked her mom again, holding eye contact with her son, smiling at him.
Her mom kissed the top of the silky head, breathed in his sweet baby smell and looked across at Erin. “I didn’t do a thing. But Nick’s my son,
darling, just as this baby is yours. It was easy to see—he loved Courtney practically from the first moment he saw her—all I did was maneuver them together a bit. And hey, if that meant pushing Courtney toward Damian simply to irritate Nick, well then, so be it!” her mom ended with a shrug.
Erin studied her mother, hoping beyond hope that she’d have what it would take to be as good a mother as her own mom had been. “Do you think I’ll really know? That I’ll be able to recognize the things that I need to recognize … as a mother?”
“Of course, sweetie! You’re a fantastic mother, and you’re going to continue to be a fantastic mother.”
“You think?” Erin asked as she held her mom’s eyes.
Her mom turned to watch something or someone behind Erin. “Yes, darling, I know you’re going to be the best mom—but right now, why don’t you run along and be the best wife? I’ve got this little darling, and Marisol is watching the baby.”
Erin twisted her head and saw Max watching her. Rick stood behind him, his eyes on his new wife.
“Hey,” Erin said, finding it almost unbelievable that she would still get seismic tremors in her limbs whenever she saw Max watching her with that look in his eyes.
“Hey,” he answered. His gaze left hers and found his firstborn, his features softening as they always did for his children. He studied the situation for a moment and then looked back to Erin, deliberately letting his gaze travel from her head to her toes and back again, stopping to linger on all his favorite places along the way. Then he tipped his head toward the stairway with a heated, unmistakable look in his eye.
“Go on,” her mom whispered.
Erin didn’t need to be told twice. She was about to begin standing when Max tracked over to where she sat and pulled her to her feet.
The momentum slammed her chest into his and as her eyes were caught and held by his dark brown gaze, a flurry of provocative shivers traced down her spine.
She took a deep breath and let out a silent prayer of thanksgiving.
Thank you, God. Thank you!
The End
####
