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The Slow Burn (Moonlight and Motor Oil Series Book 2)

Page 26

by Kristen Ashley


  “She said she wanted to explain. She said she’s been watching us. She knows about Adeline, Eliza and Brooklyn. And she says she knows you’re at the mill.” Pause. “Yeah, like a threat. She could be comin’ to you, Johnny.”

  I walked his way and his head came up.

  I handed him the glass.

  He stared in my eyes, his motor oil ones were liquid and tortured.

  So I moved to him and pressed to his front, wrapping my arms around him.

  He slid his arm with whiskey glass in hand around me, and his gaze unfocused as he went back to Johnny.

  “I don’t know. She just said she wanted to explain. She knows Dad’s gone. I didn’t give her a lot of opportunity to talk.” Pause. “Yeah.” Another pause, and again lower, “Yeah, we’re gonna have to tell them. Tomorrow. Who knows what she’s up to or is willin’ to do. She might go to them, and Dave’s gotta know so he can protect Margot.”

  Shit and damn.

  I pressed closer.

  His attention came back to me.

  “Right,” he said into his phone. “I’m down with that. But call me, she shows at yours.” Pause. “Right.” Pause. “Right.” Pause, “Yeah, love you too, Johnny. Later.”

  He disconnected, I heard his phone clatter on the granite countertop of his island then he transferred his bourbon from the hand at my back to his free one, lifted it to his mouth and downed half of the healthy dose I’d poured him.

  “Honey,” I whispered, pressing closer.

  He looked down at me. “I can’t help you put the appetizers together before going to work. But I’ll bring the stuff to yours before the party. First thing in the morning, Johnny and I are going to Margot and Dave’s.”

  I had the summer sausage, cheese and mustard I was going to put out at my place for snack boards that Toby was going to slice up and arrange for me.

  The ingredients for the cheesy spinach filling for the puff pastries Tobe was going to shove in some muffin tins, bake and fill at my pad were at his place. The filling I was going to make in the morning.

  I was going to slather the brie and cranberry on fresh cut bread when I got home.

  That was just apps.

  Tomorrow was totally going to be a Monty Python explosion.

  I nodded to my man.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  He lifted the glass of bourbon to his lips and drained it.

  Well, that answered that.

  I pushed closer. “Honey, what can I do?”

  He looked down at me.

  Then he leaned into me to put his glass on the counter.

  After he did that, he cupped his hand on my jaw.

  He said not a word through any of this.

  “Toby, baby, what do you need from me?” I whispered.

  “Thought you’d take a bite outta her,” he murmured, his eyes moving over my face.

  “Tobe—”

  “I wanted to shout in her face, you holdin’ on, I didn’t give too much away. I could play it cool.”

  “You did. Justifiably angry but dismissive. You were awesome,” I told him.

  “I wanted to let loose. I wanted to tell her she destroyed any possibility of my dad ever bein’ happy. I wanted to tell her witnessing that wounded something I thought would never heal in me. But she couldn’t have that. It would have given her power.”

  “You’re right, and you didn’t do that and that’s good.”

  “I didn’t because you had me.”

  “You didn’t because you’re Toby.”

  “No, Addie, I didn’t,” his hand on my jaw pulled me up to my toes, “because you had me.”

  I loved he thought that.

  However . . .

  “That was all you, baby,” I said gently.

  “It was me because I have you. Toby of a year ago would have torn into her. Your Toby does not give that first shit outside the fact I don’t want her bothering Johnny and Izzy, and I seriously do not want her anywhere near Margot.”

  I slid my hands up his back. “You’ve always been this Toby.”

  “No, I’m only this Toby with my Addie. I’m a better man around you. I’m a better man for you. I don’t care if that sounds like it’s from a movie. As you say, romancelandia. It’s just fuckin’ true.”

  God.

  I totally, absolutely and completely loved it that he thought that.

  “Honey,” I breathed.

  He bent his head and kissed me.

  He lifted it when he was done.

  “I wanna fuck you, do it hard, and do it right now. But Johnny’s gonna call if she shows, and I don’t wanna be buried deep in you and get that kind of call from my brother and not have my head with him.”

  That was disappointing.

  But understandable.

  So I nodded and said, “But let’s go to bed. You wanna take up another glass of bourbon?”

  “Only warmth I need is my Addie.”

  God, I loved him.

  I moved my arms from around his back to around his shoulders, pressed my face in his neck, pushed close and held him in a tight hug.

  “I’ll take tomorrow off,” I told him.

  He gave me a squeeze I read as he wanted my attention, so I pulled away to give it to him.

  “You can’t do that,” he said when he caught my gaze. “Marlon’s probably already called your references, but if he hasn’t and he calls Michael, and Michael tells him you bailed on the busiest day of the year, that won’t be good. You haven’t accepted the offer yet, so nothing is official. And she doesn’t get to fuck our shit and interfere with our lives. We got a plan. We stick with that plan as best we can. Hopefully, she’ll go away. If she doesn’t, we’ll deal.”

  I did not like this.

  I did not like not being able to be free to be there for him the next day if he needed me.

  But I had the sense he needed normalcy.

  So I agreed.

  “Okay, honey.”

  “Now let’s go to bed.”

  “I need to run out to the truck and get my purse. I left it there.”

  He shook his head then tipped his beard to the stairs. “Go up. Get ready for bed. I need to pull the truck in anyway. I’ll grab it.”

  “Okay.”

  He bent his head to touch his mouth to mine before he let me go and walked to the door to the garage.

  I did not go up and get ready for bed.

  That woman was out there, and I’d seen her drive away.

  But I was not taking any chances.

  I put the bourbon away, rinsed his glass and put it in the dishwasher, then walked to the door he’d disappeared through, opened it, stood in it and watched him pull his truck in.

  I hit the garage door button when he cut the ignition.

  He got out with my purse and moved to me.

  I didn’t get out of his way when he stopped before he made it to me.

  “Forrester Girl. All in for the ones you love, you just can’t help yourself, can you?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  His expression changed.

  I held my breath.

  “Love the fuck out of you, Addie.”

  “Love the fuck out of you too, Toby,” I replied, then reached a hand his way. “Now let’s go to bed.”

  He came forward.

  He took my hand.

  And we went to bed.

  I had head bowed to my phone and was hoofing it to my car the next evening when it happened.

  “Adeline?”

  My head came up, it was filled with the fact that I’d had four phone calls, one leaving a voicemail, all from Izzy starting at around eleven that morning, the last one coming in at five.

  As I’d worried, the day had been insane. One of the temp cashiers didn’t show so we were a lane down and it didn’t slow all day.

  I was exhausted. Toby slept fitfully, and because he did, I did the same.

  I’d managed to get a twenty-minute break for lunch, and saw Izzy’s calls and go
t her message of, “Addie, as soon as you can, call me.”

  I’d phoned her, but she didn’t pick up. I left my own message, but she didn’t call back before Michael was begging me to get back to my register, bribing me to take a short lunch and no breaks, and doing this with a one-hundred-and-fifty-dollar bonus.

  I had to leave my phone in my locker.

  Though I’d done that only after calling Toby, and him not picking up, so I left him a voicemail too, and a text, telling him he was on my mind and I hoped he was okay.

  Toby had not called or texted back.

  I’d only had a smidge of time with Toby that morning seeing as he was taking a shower and I was making spinach filling.

  Though, in accordance with his wish not to let Sierra mess with our plans, he’d reminded me to call Perry and he stuck close when I did that.

  It took approximately thirty seconds, considering Perry’s cell was no longer in service.

  This kind of worried me, since he didn’t have an address the last I’d known of him, considering the fact I was no longer paying his rent, and now I had no number to contact him, and he was a dick, but he still was my son’s father.

  But I had other, more pressing things on my mind.

  I’d deal with that later.

  Toby had kissed me quickly before he took off to meet Johnny and I’d wished him good luck.

  His mind was somewhere else, and that was understandable.

  Seeing as his mind was on the woman that was right then standing, blocking my driver’s side door, calling my name.

  “I have fifteen people at my house right now, Sierra, I don’t have time for this,” I told her.

  She completely ignored me.

  “I need to speak with you. I need you to convince Tobias and Johnathan to talk to me,” she pleaded.

  I stopped, phone in hand, two feet from her, and glared at her. “It’s Christmas Eve. I’ve been working all day. I’ve had people at my house for an hour eating hors d’oeuvres. If I’m lucky, they’ll stay another hour before we’re off for dinner. I need to get home, shower, slap on makeup, change, be with my kid, my man and my family. In other words, again, I don’t have time for this. Please move.”

  “I didn’t have a happy home. I didn’t have good parents,” she said hurriedly, again totally freaking ignoring me. “And not your normal, run-of-the-mill, they-don’t-get-me bad parents. It was awful at home. Terrible.”

  In the lights in the parking lot of Matlock Mart, I could see confirmed what I suspected last night.

  She was a beauty.

  An enduring beauty.

  She probably was seriously something in her heyday.

  But even now she was spectacular.

  Gallingly, this reminded me of my mother.

  Daphne had died in her forties. She’d gotten nowhere near this woman’s age.

  But she passed looking fifteen years younger.

  Of course, that was, she looked that way before the cancer ate her away. She just looked fifteen years younger than another woman in her forties would look after being ravaged by that dread disease.

  “Sierra—” I snapped.

  “I didn’t know how to be a wife,” she went on fast, folding her hands over her breastbone beseechingly and leaning slightly toward me. “I didn’t know how to be a mother. No. I especially didn’t know how to be a mother. I was terrified I’d hurt them. I was terrified I’d ruin them like my parents ruined me.”

  “Are you listening to me at all?” I bit out.

  “I left for their own good,” she said desperately. “I left so Lance could find someone better than me to raise my own boys. I need them to understand that. Now that they’re grown, whole, good men with good women in their lives and bright futures, I need them to understand.”

  With that, I lost it.

  “Okay, even if I gave a shit what you had to say, which I don’t, I do not have time to listen to it right now. For God’s sake, are you so self-absorbed you can’t see I just got off shift, it’s Christmas Eve, I’ve got a baby, a man, and I told you I have people at my home right now? Not to mention you showed out of the blue and Shanghaied my guy last night, and I’ve been working all day so I haven’t been able to take his pulse. So my now is not about you. It has nothing to do with you except it being slightly about the mess you’ve made. So get out of my goddamned way.”

  “Can you imagine, for his own good, missing your own boy growing up? Becoming a man?” she asked.

  “I can imagine slapping you across the face,” I bit out.

  She blinked and leaned back.

  “This does not surprise me in the least,” I hissed. “You’re pathologically self-absorbed. You do not give a shit you pulled what you pulled with Toby last night. You do not give a shit it’s Christmas Eve and I haven’t seen my kid in over twenty-four hours and I wanna see him, give him a snuggle, put work behind me and enjoy my holiday. All you care about is you. So no, Sierra. I will not convince my man and his brother to sit down and listen to you. And I’ll tell you something else, if you get anywhere near either of them, I will hurt you. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but how I do it, I’ll make it last. Now get away from my fucking car!”

  I ended on a shriek.

  She moved away from my car.

  I got in it, started it up, checked my mirrors, looked behind me and peeled the fuck out.

  I did not process the fact that in peeling out, I noticed we’d had an audience.

  I just headed home.

  When I got on the road, I called Toby.

  He did not answer.

  This was not a surprise. He was playing host to fourteen people at my house while I drove.

  I still chanted, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  I disconnected with him and tried Izzy.

  She answered, thank God.

  “Addie?”

  “Yeah, honey, I’m on my way to the acres right now. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Is everything okay?”

  “Drive safe.” She hesitated then finished, “But drive fast.”

  What?

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Tell you when you get here. Hurry, doll.”

  “Is it bad?”

  “Yes, Addie. It’s bad.”

  Shit.

  “Did Sierra get to Johnny? Margot?”

  “Just come home.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  That goddamned woman.

  “Be there soon, Iz.”

  “Okay, baby. Love you. Love you a lot.”

  Oh God.

  “Love you too.”

  We disconnected, and I drove safe but as fast as I could go.

  I did not think it boded well that when I turned into the acres, I saw Toby’s truck, Johnny’s truck, but Dave’s truck nor Margot’s car, nor any other vehicles were in the drive.

  The Christmas lights were lit, glowing merrily, and the tree in the window twinkled gaily (though I’d noted well before that Margot was right, it needed to go a little to the left).

  But the dining room light at the front was not on, and with a ton of people in the house, that space would be needed. I could see the kitchen lights at the back on, coming from the side windows.

  Nothing upstairs.

  Other than that, just the family room.

  I parked, cut the ignition, grabbed my bag and hauled ass.

  When I hit the foyer, Izzy was coming out of the family room.

  I heard no happy party noises of people eating, drinking and bustling in the joyful holiday.

  I didn’t even hear any Christmas music, and Toby was supposed to be on that.

  I just saw Izzy’s face.

  And I stopped dead.

  “Where’s Brooks?” I asked.

  She was coming my way, but she tipped her head to the side toward the family room.

  “In with the men. He’s fine, Addie. Perfectly fine.”

  She was talking quiet.

  “Where is everyone?” I queried.

 
She stopped in front of me, reached out and grabbed both my hands.

  It was then I saw the tears shimmering in her eyes.

  OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod.

  My fingers spasmed around hers.

  “Talk to me,” I begged in a whisper.

  “Margot has cancer,” she whispered back.

  OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod.

  “Toby wanted to tell you, but he’s . . . he’s . . .” She shook her head. “They’ve both taken it really hard.”

  Why all their sons were here for Christmas.

  Why Dave was in a terrible mood.

  Why we needed to have everything sorted for Izzy’s wedding way before it actually needed to be sorted.

  “They . . . because of Mom, I talked them into letting me tell you,” she said.

  I stood still, holding her hands, staring at her face.

  “She wasn’t going to tell them until after the holiday,” Izzy continued. “But she told Lance and Dave Junior last night. They were . . . Johnny told me they were destroyed,” she shared. “Couldn’t hide it. It came out.”

  They were destroyed.

  Cancer could be beat.

  Except some of it.

  That my sister and I knew all too well.

  And her sons were destroyed.

  OhGodohGodohGod.

  I took one hand from hers and slid it along her cheek, getting close.

  “How are you?” I whispered.

  A tear fell from her eye.

  She didn’t have to answer.

  But she said, “Devastated.”

  I slid my hand back into her hair and pulled her forehead to mine.

  We stood there, my hand in her hair, our hands clutching each other’s, stared into each other’s eyes and breathed deep.

  Then abruptly, I let her go, ran down the hall and into the family room.

  I skidded to a halt when I got there.

  Johnny was ass to the edge of the seat in the armchair, turned toward Toby.

  Toby was in the couch, his back to me.

  “Baby,” I called.

  Toby twisted. Both men looked to me and both men rose.

  Toby was holding Brooks.

  Brooks was quiet, and I could tell, fretting.

  He felt the vibe.

  I felt it too.

  But I saw it in Toby’s face.

  OhGodohGodohGod.

  Oh my fucking God.

  “Please come here,” he said quietly.

  As fast as I could, I went there.

 

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