Four Simple Words: A Badass and the Billionaires Contemporary Romance (The Sisters Quartet Book 4)

by Mary J. Williams

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  ~~~~

  LIAM KNEW HIS family. Gregarious to their bones, they would welcome Destry with open arms. He expected no less. He wasn't as confident about her reaction to them. One or two Stantons could be a lot to take in. The entire brood gathered for a celebration? For the first time since the brilliant idea occurred to him, he felt a doubt or two creep in.

  A little nervous, he pulled the truck to a stop. Five SUVs, designed with growing families in mind, were already parked outside the large, rambling, blue and white house. Children of various ages ran around the yard laughing at the excited antics of three floppy-eared golden retriever puppies.

  "Seven grandchildren?" Destry slowly unbuckled her seatbelt. "Your parents must be thrilled."

  "Eleven," Liam corrected as he unloaded their luggage. "The four babies are probably down for a nap."

  Liam tried to read her face, looking for any sign she might grab his keys and make a run for it. All he saw was a slightly bemused expression in her dark eyes. His nerves quieted, but he knew they weren't out of the woods yet. The cute little monsters were bound to descend on Destry, en masse, at some point. Lord only knew how an independent woman with no nieces and nephews of her own would react.

  The moment came sooner than Liam anticipated when Tessa, his oldest brother's firstborn, called out his name. Her cousins soon followed suit and the entire pack of munchkins headed his way. The children and animals didn't care if Destry was friend or foe. She stood between them and their beloved uncle; in their eyes, she was fair game.

  "Better stand back," Liam warned.

  To give Destry credit, she didn't blink. Instead, she planted her feet and met the traveling horde head on.

  One of the puppies hit her first—literally. All feet, he tripped, turned into a ball of lolling tongue and flailing legs, and landed on Destry's foot.

  "Hey, cutie."

  She bent to pet the friendly pup—her first mistake. The second was to turn herself into a human target. The children saw her as the bottom piece in one of their favorite games. Pile on the adult. Liam stepped forward, hoping to avert disaster, but the chain reaction had begun and, like the cutest train wreck ever, all he could do was watch.

  Destry, suddenly aware of what was about to hit, curled her body around the vulnerable puppy and sacrificed herself to the brunt of the attack.

  Liam pulled off giggling relatives before the last one hit. But they weren't content to jump once. Over and over, little body after little body. Didn't matter that he was bigger and stronger. By sheer force of numbers and boundless energy, he didn't stand a chance.

  "Hey," he yelled when he saw his brothers gathered on the porch, laughing their asses off. "They're your kids. Give me a hand."

  "Looks like you're doing fine," Michael, the oldest, chuckled.

  Jarrod, the closest in age to Liam, crossed his arms and watched, a huge grin on his face.

  "Leave them be," he called out, unconcerned. "They'll wear themselves out in an hour or two."

  Exasperated by his brother's attitude, Liam held a nephew under each arm.

  "Great advice. Problem is, Destry is somewhere under your pile of offspring."

  "Destry? Your woman?"

  "Yes!" Liam grabbed for a third child but missed.

  "Why the hell didn't you say so?"

  One grown man was helpless against seven squirming, pint-sized imps. But six, aided by some stern fatherly warnings, made fast work of them. Once clear, they found Destry still curled into a ball. The puppy was unharmed, licking her face with big, wet swipes of his tongue.

  Liam fell to his knees, scared sick when she didn't move.

  "Destry?" He reached for her but pulled back, afraid to cause further injury. "Talk to me."

  "Can't," she wheezed.

  Gently, Liam rolled her to her back, his heart in his throat. Instead of a frightened, broken woman, he found tears running down Destry's face—tears of laughter.

  "You okay?" Liam handed the puppy to Michael before he took Destry's hand and helped her to her feet.

  "Best. Greeting. Ever."

  Liam looked into Destry's shining eyes. He thought she had the wind knocked out of her. Turned out he was the one who couldn't breathe. Slowly, he felt his heart leave his throat, do a slow roll, and land firmly at her feet. Worried he might say something he couldn't take back, he busied himself brushing grass and dirt from her clothes.

  Destry, still grinning, was happy to let him. When she noticed his brothers, she held onto Liam's waist and nodded.

  "Hello."

  "Hello, yourself. I'm Michael." As tall as Liam but with a thicker frame and eyes the color of mahogany, he took Destry's outstretched hand. "Should I apologize for our youngsters or say you're welcome?"

  "Apologize," Liam grumbled, picking a leaf from her hair.

  "Don't be silly." Destry stepped around Liam to greet the rest of his brothers. "Destry Benedict. And your children are wonderful. When I was young, my mother insisted I behave like a proper young lady at all times."

  "And?" Liam asked as if he didn't already know.

  "Mrs. F. told me I had plenty of time to be a lady, but I was only young once."

  "Whoever your Mrs. F. is, I like her style. I'm Denny, by the way."

  The other two Stanton men, Chris and Seth, introduced themselves.

  "No doubt you were all cut from the same cloth. Handsome and tall, each one of you."

  "A woman of obvious taste," Michael said. He looked at Liam and sighed. "There's always an exception."

  "Oh, I don't know. As handsome as you are, I think Liam has all of you beat." Destry measured a fraction of an inch between her forefinger and thumb. "By a smidgeon."

  Michael tucked Destry's hand in the crook of his arm.

  "Like I said, always the exception. Bring the luggage, Liam. We'll meet you in the house."

  As his brothers escorted her up the front stairs, Destry looked over her shoulder at him and shrugged. So much for any worries she might feel uncomfortable or not fit in. She and Michael already had their heads together, conversing as if they'd known each other for years.

  "I like your girlfriend, Uncle Liam," Shannon, all of four years old, declared. "You should ask her to marry you so she can stay forever."

  Out of the mouths of babes. Liam picked Shannon up, looking her straight in the eyes, his expression stern.

  "Promise you won't mention marriage to Destry."

  "Okay."

  Shannon gave him a big hug. He set her down, and she was off to play with her cousins. Their conversation, Liam hoped, was erased from her memory. The idea of forever was scary enough for him. The last thing he needed was for his niece to spook Destry, however innocent the comment.

  "Are you coming?" Denny yelled. "Or has life in the big city made you forget how to carry your own bags?"

  Liam checked to make certain the children were otherwise occupied before he flipped off his brother.

  "Nice," Denny shook his head and returned the favor. "Now, get your backside in the house, big shot. Your mother's asking after you."

  Ah, family. Liam did as he was told and grabbed the bags. What would he do without them? He jogged up the stairs and said a silent prayer that he never had to find out.

  ~~~~

  THE KITCHEN WAS loud, filled with overlapping voices, the sounds of pots knocking against pans, and laughter, lots and lots of laughter. The scene wasn't completely unfamiliar, similar in many ways to the one Destry was part of day after day in New York. Minus the chaos and crying babies. But the love and warmth were the same, simply multiplied by a couple dozen.

  Destry liked to see the Stanton men involved. The Stanton women insisted. A huge island dominated the center of the room. The house was designed with an open floor plan so the entire family, from the youngest to the oldest, could be part of the mayhem.

  Berton Stanton, proud patriarch, bent over the open oven door,
basting a massive pork roast. He was Liam to a T, thirty years or so down the road. Handsome, charming as sin, with a bounce in his step a man half his age would envy. Destry liked him the moment he pulled her into a welcoming hug and insisted she call him Bert.

  For some reason, perhaps because of her complicated relationship with her own mother, Destry didn't feel the same instant bond with Liam's mother. Pretty, friendly, earth mother personified, she could find no fault with Minnie; the blame lay squarely on her own shoulders.

  "Would you like to help peel the potatoes, Destry?"

  Minnie's question caught her off guard.

  "Me?" Destry gingerly took the peeler as if handed a live grenade.

  "Sorry," Liam whispered. He stood beside her, chopping parsley with admirable expertise. "House rules. If you want to eat, you have to work."

  Destry didn't mind. She picked up a potato, taking an awkward swipe with the bladed tool. Hm. Pretty easy. She took another swipe, and another, gaining confidence and momentum.

  "Done," she declared.

  What if the thing was a quarter of its original size? For her first attempt, she felt pretty darn proud.

  "Interesting." Liam scratched his chin. "You realize the object is to leave more of the flesh on the potato than in the sink."

  Smiling, Destry kept her voice to a level only Liam could hear.

  "Do you realize I can easily turn this peeler into a plug for your ass?"

  "Now I do. Ouch." Liam gave her a quick kiss.

  Destry looked around. Minnie's bright smile was the only indication any of the family noticed Liam's public display of affection. The older woman's easy acceptance was like a balm to a wound Destry didn't know she carried.

  "My mother told me you have an old soul inside a strong, disciplined body."

  "She met me all of two hours ago. I get the body part." She flexed her bicep for him and winked. "But my soul? How does she know?"

  "She's Irish, and a woman." Liam shrugged as if his words made perfect sense.

  Destry didn't know if Minnie's heritage or sex gave her a deeper understanding of other people. Maybe. She did know a compliment when she heard one and was happy to accept.

  Dinner lived up to the pre-meal hype. Destry was convinced Mrs. Finch might have a rival for best cook ever in the combined Stanton family efforts. A fact she planned to keep to herself when she returned home. Dessert, a sticky, gooey, pudding-like concoction she'd never seen or heard of before, tasted like a bowl of heaven topped with sweet whipped cream.

  "Would you like another helping, Destry? I always make plenty for my hungry brood."

  "Everything was amazing, Minnie. But, I couldn't eat another bite." Destry was happily full. "May I help with the dishes?"

  "Someone raised you right." Minnie nodded her approval. "Thank you, but one of the many good things my boys provide is plenty of hands to help come cleanup time. You and Liam go enjoy the night air."

  "Last time I looked, Liam was a Stanton boy," Denny muttered as he stacked the dishes.

  "Did you have something relevant to say, Dennis?"

  Minnie's pointed look was enough to mute her son's protests.

  "No, ma'am."

  "Good. I know how much you love to scrub the roasting pan. Go on," Minnie said. "The dish soap is under the sink, as always."

  Still chuckling as she walked hand in hand with Liam across the driveway toward the large, red barn, Destry breathed deeply. Did Irish air smell different? Fresher? Sweeter? Or was the good food and better company the x-factor in the equation? Either way, she was glad she came.

  "Want to fool around?"

  Liam stopped dead in his tracks.

  "Excuse me?" He leaned closer. "Say again?"

  "Fool around, Mr. Stanton. Surely you haven't forgotten the concept already?"

  "Funny, I seem to recall an adamant rule you made up to torment me. Something about no sex while at my parents' home?"

  Willing to concede she caved sooner than planned, Destry gave Liam some leeway to gloat. How was she to know how mellow she would feel after an evening spent with so many strangers—strangers who made her feel like one of the family?

  "You're right." Destry sighed, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Forget I said anything. Maybe Denny will let you take over roasting pan duty."

  "Not so fast, Ms. Benedict. You made an offer. Give me a moment to bask in how irresistible you find my body."

  "Another word, Mr. Stanton, and you can forget my offer—now or ever again."

  Liam held up his hands, turned an imaginary lock on his lips, and tossed the key over his shoulder. A second later, he did the same to Destry.

  "Where are we going?" She laughed, bouncing up and down as he jogged toward the rapidly setting sun.

  "Can't talk, remember?"

  "At least let me run with you or my dinner might come back up, and down your back."

  Destry landed on her feet with a thud. Taking her hand, Liam didn't give her time to catch her breath. They headed down a winding trail. The waning light made the path hard to see, but he seemed to know exactly the right way to go.

  "Are we there yet?" Destry laughed at her joke.

  "Yes. We are."

  Liam stopped without warning. She bumped into his back with a thump and almost fell onto her butt. His quick reflexes and an arm around her waist kept her upright.

  How did he know? Destry looked around in wonder. In front of her stood a pretty little tree with a blanket of green grass underneath. Plucked from her imagination with the bonus of a brook that babbled gently in the background.

  Liam laid his jacket on the grass, lowered Destry, and followed until his body covered hers. She opened her mouth to protest, but, like the tree, he already knew what she wanted.

  "Condom." He held the packet in front of her eyes.

  The first time they were together, the sex was fast and hot. The second time, Liam took charge. Their time on his plane was fun and easy going.

  Here, as a slight breeze ruffled the leaves above them, everything was different. Destry stared into his eyes as their bodies moved together in perfect synchronization. She didn't feel the familiar need to rush toward a burst of inevitable pleasure. Instead, she wanted to savor every touch, cherish every kiss—she wanted the moment to last forever.

  Usually, Destry refused to look further ahead than a week or two. However, the moment here with Liam seemed out of time. She was a different person—less battered by the past, more open to what might be.

  Forever wasn't real. But tonight, in one magic moment, she closed her eyes and believed.

  ~~~~

  SOMETHING HAD CHANGED.

  Liam watched Destry as she helped set the table for his father's birthday celebration. She looked like the same woman he held in his arms the night before. Her laughter at something his mother said sounded the same. The way she held her head, the curve of her lips was wonderfully familiar.

  Yet, whenever he looked into her eyes, Liam caught a flicker of wariness and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. He thought they reached a turning point, a moment of understanding. He would have sworn, as they came together under the tree he chose with her in mind, they didn't have sex—they made love.

  Today, Liam wanted to spend time with her. All Destry wanted was to keep as much distance between them as possible. Could he have read the signs wrong? Or, in a rush of newly discovered feelings, had he imagined she felt the same?

  "She's a special young woman."

  Liam's father handed him a beer. Bert joined him on the sofa. For once, the room was empty except for the two of them and a battery of toys strewn across the floor.

  "You want to tell me what's wrong?" his father asked in his usual straightforward manner.

  "Do I have a choice?"

  "The ability to choose is one of God's great gifts."

  Liam took a sip from the bottle and shook his head. His father had a way of getting people to tal
k, whether they wanted to or not.

  "For example, the woman you decide to spend your life with? Biggest, most important choice of all." Bert continued when Liam remained silent. "Destry isn't the type I thought you'd pick."

  "She's a type?"

  "You know what I mean."

  "I don't." Liam felt a prickle of annoyance. "Why don't you explain?"

  His father was an easy-going man. Gentle and laidback. He could count on one hand the number of times he saw Bert lose his temper. Liam, on the other hand, was blessed—or cursed—with his mother's temperament. Slow to anger, but once the boiling point was reached, he needed some time to cool off. Breathing deep, he held his feelings in check, worried if his father said a bad word about Destry, he might lose his cool faster than usual.

  "Your mother and I fretted for a long time, certain you'd go for the flashy type. All glitz and no substance. Had us worried." Bert chuckled. "Last night in bed, Minnie almost wept with relief."

  "Over Destry?" Liam wanted to be sure he understood his father's meaning.

  "Who else?" Frowning, his father scratched his head. "Are we wrong about why you brought her home?"

  "No. Maybe." Liam sighed. "I don't know."

  "Son, I can't remember the last time you were confused over anything. I'd say if Destry has you in knots, she's definitely the one."

  'I wasn't sure if she would fit in." Liam's lips quirked into a wry smile as Destry bent to listen as little Shannon whispered something in her ear. Nodding, she winked and whatever the secret, Shannon skipped away, happy as a clam. "I was wrong."

  "Can't figure why you were worried."

  "Destry isn't like any woman I've ever met. She's…" How could he explain the unexplainable? "She's an adventurer. Capable and strong. If you asked, she'd describe herself as a set-in-her-ways cynic, hardnosed and hardhearted."

  "Destry?" Bert scoffed at the idea. "Are we talking about the same woman?"

  Liam nodded.

  "She's wrong," Bert said with absolute certainty.

  "Thing is, she isn't. Destry is all those things. She's also caring, generous, and compassionate to a fault. And if I dared call her even one of those things, she'd knock me flat on my ass."