My mouth falls open as I turn that way, and sure enough, from this angle it looks as if they’re doing just that, but in reality they’re just standing a little too close for comfort—my comfort.
Oh Lord, Marshall’s cryptic words are proving to be true already. Now that’s one surprise I don’t want.
Logan and I head over to the family room, and I take Jaxson from him in hopes that having my hands full will stave off the urge I have to sucker punch Gage.
Mom claps with glee once she sees Logan and me migrating toward the Christmas tree. She’s wearing a sweater with a picture of a reindeer on it that blinks and lights up like a seizure and a pair of skintight velvet green pants.
I spot Demetri standing with Emma, Barron, and Tad—and the devil of a Fem looks to be inspecting my mother’s velvety bum with an approving smile.
Nitwit.
“Ooh, look at this adorable family,” Mom coos.
Emma steps up next to her with her arms folded across her chest as if she didn’t approve, while Logan, the boys, and I situate ourselves in front of the faux Christmas tree that my mother let the younger set decorate with handmade ornaments.
Lexy snaps away a million pictures at once as we do our best to freeze the smiles onto our faces until our cheeks hurt.
“Not a complete family if you ask me,” Emma snarks.
“Nobody asked you,” I say through the side of my mouth like a bad ventriloquist.
“Here he is,” she sings as Gage steps into the room. “Here comes the king.”
Gage shoots her a look, and she waves him off.
“Oh, it’s true,” Emma harrumphs. “Now get in there and take some pictures with the boys.” She nods my way. “Skyla, if you don’t mind.” She motions for me to vacate the area.
“No,” Gage says sternly. “I want their mother in the picture.”
I’m not sure I like him referencing me so coldly as their mother, but I’ll take it.
Logan begins to step away, and I pull him in close.
“No way, Oliver,” I say. “You’re my husband. You’re practically Nathan and Barron’s father yourself. You’re not going anywhere.” And there’s not a chance in hell Emma could ever tell me to remove Jaxson from the shot either.
Lexy spins her magic, and we’re all good and blinded as we stagger away, giving Emily, Drake, and Ethan a chance up next at holiday-bat with Ember and Ella. Bree and Beau Geste run in, and soon they’re replicating our modern family photo shoot.
Tad honks out a laugh while stuffing his face with lunchmeat.
“I knew it’d happen.” He elbows my mother in the ribs. “Skyla and the doofuses got that threesome thing happening. What do they call it? A massage?”
“A ménage,” my mother is quick to correct, much to Emma’s prissy horror.
“We’re not a ménage,” I say, and half the room looks this way.
At one point, we had the potential, but no thanks to Gage and his wicked wiring we’re about as far away from a loving threesome as you can get.
Gage nods to Logan. “You never were good at sharing your toys.”
An indignant huff comes from behind, and it only echoes my own.
I turn to find Emily glaring at the boy I once regarded as a blue-eyed god.
“Listen, Mess, or whoever the hell you are, don’t let him get away with likening you to a toy. This is exactly the bullshit that sets a precedent and leaves our kind lingering on the margins of life. You’ve got three boys. You better nip this crap in the bud, or your children are going to grow up disrespecting mine.”
“She’s right,” I hiss to Gage. “Don’t you dare disparage me like that ever again. I don’t care if there are little ears around to hear it or not. I’m nobody’s plaything.” Except Logan’s, of course, but I don’t dare say that out loud.
Gage gives a wry smile as if he heard my internal musings, or at least he surmised as much. Gage and I knew each other so well, we could finish each other’s sentences. It doesn’t surprise me that he knows exactly what I’m thinking. But boy, would I love to know what the hell he’s thinking.
Tad steps forward as he struggles to swallow down all the processed meat he just stuffed into his pie hole.
He shakes his head at Emma. “It could be worse. They could all be shacking up together in that love nest upstairs. It’s bad enough she keeps the kids with her. You know the boys had to have their own bedroom after the feds stepped in.”
“It was social services,” I say, much to my own dismay. “And it was cleared up after they took a look at our living situation.” And after a rather unnecessary stay with Gage and Chloe, that Logan and I had to endure right along with the boys. I shoot Gage the stink eye for making me recall such a trying time to begin with. “Regardless, even though the boys have their own room, they prefer to sleep with me.”
Emma snorts. “With you and Logan?” She glances to the ceiling. “Honestly, if it were anyone else, I’d call social services myself. But Logan, you are like my own son. It’s just”—she expels a dramatic sigh—“it’s not right for the boys to see their mother sleeping with their uncle. And for them to join in on it? Well, it’s just not natural.”
Logan grunts, “The boys are mine, Emma. It’s perfectly natural. The son who bore them is gone. Once he comes back to his senses, a lot of things will feel natural. Until then, we’re holding out hope for a full recovery on his part.” Logan shrugs over at Gage. “We want you back.”
“Ah-ha!” Tad claps despite the fact his hands are full of lunchmeat. “They want him back in the bedroom. I told you so, Little Miss Priss.” He butts his shoulder to Emma’s and nearly launches her into the television screen. “I’ve long suspected some kinky shenanigans brewing among these three. And I’m here to tell you, I’m not having it under my roof. So you can pick up your diaper-dwellers and head on over to that castle on the beach across from the bowling alley.” He leans in hard. “Just a word of warning, sexual deviance is frowned upon on this island. You keep up the three-way hanky-panky and you’re bound to be ostracized from the rest of society.”
I roll my eyes. “Been there, done that.”
Tad opens his maw while chewing and exposes us to a mouthful of bolus.
My stomach turns on cue, and a part of me is rooting for my stomach to expel its contents.
Logan dots a kiss to Jaxson’s forehead. “Don’t worry about our love life. I think you have enough on your plate. How are things going?”
Tad stops cold and turns to give Demetri the evil eye.
My God, has Tad Landon finally figured it out? Did he somehow manage to buy a clue with that faux fortune Demetri arranged to be shoved down his throat?
“Demeet is handling everything for me.” He looks to my mother. “Don’t worry, Lizbeth. Demeet and I have worked out a deal.”
Gage shoots me a look of mild alarm, and if the king who wears the paper crown is worried, then I probably should be, too.
I’m about to call out the wicked for who they are when Barron—Senior—nods my way.
“Skyla, you’re simply glowing this evening. It’s good to have you in your own skin, and I do believe it’s you despite rumors that are percolating.” He gives Emma the side-eye and my mouth falls open.
That witch.
I shouldn’t be too surprised she’s spreading the faux news.
Logan takes up my hand. Has anyone ever told you that your face gives away your every thought?
I take a cue from Barron and shoot Logan the side-eye.
“Thank you, Barron.” I force a smile to come. Usually it would be easy to smile for Barron, but having him flanked with Wicked Thing One and Wicked Thing Two aka Emma and Demetri, it’s hard to make my lips turn in that direction. I’ve taken Gage off the wicked list seeing that he’s being lied to so expertly.
Barron tips his head with a quizzical expression. “Whatever transpired to send you out of your body to begin with?”
Both Logan and I glance to Gage, and he closes his ey
es briefly before sniffing hard.
“Skyla?” Gage says my name abruptly. “What did happen to you?”
There’s a dare in his eyes. And just beneath that, there’s a wound so deep you could fall into the abyss. Gage Oliver is very much alive and well, and I could weep buckets over the fact—both with joy and agony.
I glance to Logan, and he gives a subtle shake of the head as if to say don’t entertain crazy.
I clear my throat as I look to Barron. “It’s a long story.” It’s not clear to me if people actually understood from that video that it was Gage who evicted my spirit from my body.
Jaxson falls asleep over my chest with less than a whisper, and my mother coos at the adorable sight.
“Give that little piglet to me. I’ll lay him down for you.”
“Thank you,” I say as she gingerly takes him from my arms and heads out of the room.
Tad steps up and slaps Demetri on the shoulder, pulling him into our circle.
“Now that the little woman is gone”—Tad grins over at Demetri—“I have news from the legal front. It turns out, Demeet is lining up a whole new defense dream team for me.”
“Wonderful,” I flatline while glaring at the evil among us. “Is this the same dream team you used to crown your son king?”
Demetri sheds an easy smile. “Only top-notch expertise is allowed to aid in an effort to free my friend from the chains that bind him.”
“You mean felony that binds him,” I say. “Do you know what’s considered an even bigger felony? Setting someone up to look as if they rigged the lottery system.”
He gives a slight nod my way. “Difficult to prove, I’m sure, but we’ll leave no stone unturned.”
Marshall steps in and wraps an arm around my waist—much to Logan’s chagrin—but with those feel-good vibratronics of his traveling all over my body suddenly it feels as if I’ve been whisked away to a Sector day spa.
It never grows old.
“See here, Emma?” Tad balks while making the lunchmeats clutched in his fist flap like a bird. “Don’t feel too bad that she gave your son the old heave-ho. She’s not two weeks into her nuptials than she’s got another one in the queue.” He gives a wistful shake of the head. “And they only get richer. You can’t say I didn’t raise her right.” He takes off, and Emma gives an indignant huff.
She glances to Gage. “It just proves your instincts to leave her were spot-on.”
“Emma,” Barron growls. “You may not speak that way to the mother of your grandchildren—who, by the way, also happens to live under this roof.” He links his arm to her. “Please excuse us,” he says as he hauls her off while starting in on what looks like a verbal beatdown. I hope it hurts, too.
I can’t help but note that Gage chose to remain silent during his mother’s outburst.
Figures.
Demetri lifts his wicked chin our way. “Speaking of living arrangements. The two of you have a home elsewhere. What’s the holdup? Isn’t Whitehorse to your liking, Skyla?”
Logan growls under his breath, “She likes it just fine. It’s you she doesn’t like sniffing around her mother.”
Demetri lets one of his deviant chuckles rip. “Yes, well, there are simply some things in life you’ll have to get used to, Skyla. My presence around your mother is one of them.”
A huff of a laugh pulses through me. “Is it because you couldn’t have the other one?”
The entire room feels as if it stills when I let the celestial zinger fly.
Demetri’s eyes widen a notch, unsure of what I just said, but judging by the hardness forming over his features, he’s quickly putting it together.
Marshall leans my way. “Might I suggest you stray from the topic? I’d prefer all hell to break loose at a much later date. I’ve yet to try the roast beast, and Heathcliff has gifted me fine bourbon.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Oh, come on, Marshall, there’s no time like the present to stick a fork in the turkey—especially when you know it’s done.”
Demetri takes a brazen step in. “You may believe you have the upper hand, my dear, but all things—including your people—will quickly shift into my son’s favor once again. Do not underestimate our power. In a moment all can be lost.”
“And it was—for you,” I say. “It’s just a technicality that Celestra hasn’t returned to its rightful celestial position.”
His lips curl once again with that perennial smirk.
“A technicality?” He takes an even breath as if he were trying to calm himself. “Your mother doesn’t strike me as someone who deals in technicalities.” He offers an amicable nod before heading off to the buffet and striking up a conversation with Wesley.
“Figures,” I say. “He’s trying to pull Wes back to the dark side.”
Logan nods in agreement. “I bet he misses the good old days.”
A dull laugh bounces from Gage. “The good old days never left. Don’t worry, Skyla. I won’t make it hurt so bad this time when I take your people back.”
That ridiculous covenant Rory had my people partake in comes to mind. They’re practically married to Celestra. They can’t leave. And if they do, they can never return.
And then it hits me. Could she have set this up from the beginning?
I’m about to suggest my theory to Logan and Marshall when Dominique Winters strides into the room dressed as the poisonous bloom she is in a floor-length emerald velvet gown, her pale boobs on display for all to see as if they were the double D wonders of the world. And honestly, they kind of are. Her red hair is spun over her head like a crimson crown, and her ruby lips add a flair of drama to complete her look. I’m about to welcome her to the Landon home when I spot her questionable daughter, Melody Winters, by her side, looking polished and neat, not in the haggard hippie style Cassandra Graham had initially given the poor girl whose body she overtook.
Cassandra is one of those infamous seventeenth century Counts who is harder to exterminate than a celestial cockroach. Dominique is most likely a possession, too—who or what I really don’t care. In fact, the whole clan is basically a recycling plant for old souls looking to weasel their way into a whole new millennium.
Melody’s hair is dyed a fresh shade of strawberry blonde, and her eyes gleam and twinkle as she looks my way. Her lips are painted scarlet to match the hip-hugging dress she’s donned as she strides on over on six-inch heels.
“Skyla”—her eyes meet with mine, and a mild jolt of electrocution mingled with something akin to confusion bullets through me—“it’s so nice to see you again. Happy holidays to all.” She gives Gage a subtle wink. “Perhaps we can be friends,” she says as she moves her eyes to mine a second too late. It’s clear she wants to be more than friends with my ex. She’s never made it a secret before, so I don’t see why she should start now.
“We can’t be friends, Melody,” I say, still uncertain who the suggestive proposition was made to. “And you can’t sleep with Gage. Kresley Fisher already licked him. He’s hers. Sorry to say, you’re late to the perverted party.”
“Oh dear, Skyla.” Her eyes cut to mine, and there’s an unusual iciness in them. “I can do anything I want. And all that I undertake I succeed at.” She gives Gage a finger curl of a wave. “Ciao,” she says, strutting off in Demetri’s direction right after her mother.
I grunt, “I don’t remember Smelly Melly having so much bravado. Sure, she had attitude, but with the delivery of an angry alley cat.”
Logan pulls me out of Marshall’s partial embrace.
“She looks different, too.” He shrugs. “Her walk, her talk. It’s almost as if—
I suck in a quick breath. “Oh God.”
Logan gives a slow blink. “Winner winner Rory dinner?”
A husky laugh pulses through Marshall. “It took the two of you long enough.”
Gage flickers a smile our way. “I wouldn’t berate them too much, Dudley. They’re functioning on a lack of sleep, and I doubt it has anything to do with the baby.�
�
“You would know.” Marshall doesn’t miss a beat. “Longing for the good old days are we now, Jock Strap?”
“Marshall,” I whisper. “Tell him that Logan and I are right. Demetri is simply pulling the spiritual wool over his eyes.”
Gage twitches his head toward the exit. Obviously, there’s nothing in him that’s interested in listening to the truth.
“Well, Dudley?” He glares over at the Sector. “Let’s have it. What’s your take on this? And don’t think for a moment I won’t be taking your interest in the outcome to heart.”
“You have no heart.” Marshall scowls at him. “And you’re right. I know enough to mind my own interests.”
“Attention!” Melissa calls out with her hands cupped around her mouth. “Can I please have everyone’s attention?”
The conversations in the room come grinding to a halt while all eyes drift that way, but it’s not Melissa who has my mouth falling open. It’s Revelyn Booth who just got down on one knee in front of my Mia.
“Oh my word,” I whimper as I snuggle next to Logan.
“Mia Landon Messenger.” He kisses the back of my sister’s hand while looking up at her. He’s donned a suit, and his hair is neatly trimmed as he continues to propagate that Wolf of Wall Street persona. “You are beautiful inside and out. You have a brilliant mind and the biggest heart of anyone I know.”
I purse my lips as I consider if he indeed knows my sister—never mind the fact he reversed her dual surnames. Come to think of it—Mia might have dropped Messenger all together when she became a legal Landon.
“Mia.” Rev bows his head a moment before his eyes meet with hers once again. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
And then I lose it. My entire body bucks with emotion as Logan holds me tight. That was a beautiful proposal and Mia deserved every romantic moment of it.
Just about every woman in the room coos at the adorable sight.
Tears stream down my sister’s face as she nods with enthusiasm.
“Yes!” she squeals. “And it’s about time you asked. Yes! A thousand times yes!”
Roar of the Lion : Celestra Forever After 7 Page 39
