“Keep your bear hands off of it!” she yells back. “That’s tonight’s dessert.”
I close the lid as another knock comes at the front door. I brace again and go to answer. Casey and Grace are on the other side, Casey in a collared shirt and pants and Grace in a pretty yellow dress with a bottle of something fancy in her hands. Champagne maybe. My mouth opens and closes and it opens again. “What are you both doing here?”
“Way to lay out the welcome mat,” Grace says.
I stand to the side, letting them through, giving Grace a quick half-hug and kiss on the cheek in greeting as she steps inside. “But it’s family dinner. At Ace’s house.”
“We’re family, right?” Casey gives me a cool look, daring me to refute him.
“Right,” I mutter, knowing I need to be mature and keep a level head because we still have Mason to deal with. The last thing I need is being at loggerheads with Casey too. There’s only so many brothers I can fight with at one time, to be honest. Besides, I think we left things at a good place at his wedding. It’s like we both know without having to communicate it that we’ll never be the best friends we could have been, but we can work toward being something new. Civil acquaintances, maybe.
“I invited them,” Ace says, returning to the living area.
She greets my brother and sister-in-law while Grace fusses over her injuries. Echo returns soon after, getting introduced, and more girly fussing commences. At one point Grace touches Echo’s hair, and it amazes me how woman can bond over the smallest shit.
“Mitch told us everything,” Casey says to me.
“Nice of him to blab,” I mutter. Though it doesn’t surprise me. Casey is tight with the Valentines.
“It came from a good place. And you did good bringing him in on it. Marchetti would always be a problem if you hadn’t intervened and did what you did.” He claps me on the back.
I don’t know what to do with his praise. I clear my throat. “Yeah, well, Ace is pretty special. Didn’t want that asshole causing her any future trouble.”
Lydia and Ron return with a tray of drinks. More introductions are made and cocktails are dispensed. My eyes watch Ace as everyone chats and drinks. She’s seen the box. She bends slightly and lifts the lid for a peek like I did.
Her lips move as she reads the piped wording. Then her eyes go wide, and she snorts, straightening as she elbows Echo in the ribs. They both laugh and I realise the cake was a good idea. It makes light of a serious situation, but sometimes that can be just what you need to get over something.
Then the front door opens again, this time admitting Racer. He holds it open while Mason wheels in behind him, then he shuts the door behind them both.
Everyone’s chatter dies clean away. Then it restarts, a little more awkwardly. Mason’s eyes search the room. They land on Ace. And I can tell by the way he’s looking at this sister that he already knows. I’m relieved. A big family dinner like this one is the not the time or place to be sharing something of that magnitude.
“Can we talk?” I hear him ask her after he wheels his way to her side.
“Sure.” She looks to me as they leave the room, giving me the thumbs-up as she goes to let me know she has it handled.
Ordinarily I’d follow anyway, but when Ace indicates she has something handled now, it’s because she knows I have her back. So I stand, sipping at my mulled cocktail, which I’m still lovin’ even though it’s the kind of classy shit I wouldn’t typically drink in a million years.
“That Mason?” Casey asks, holding a mulled cocktail of his own. We stand in similar clothing because I’m wearing a collared shirt and pants too, only my sleeves are rolled up because keeping them buttoned at the wrists makes me uncomfortable.
I don’t mind makin’ that kind of effort for my old lady when I’m dinin’ with her family because it’s important. And I remember once makin’ a snarky comment to my brother about being pussy whipped because I saw him makin’ that exact same effort. He replied, saying I was probably right, but if it meant havin’ Grace, then he didn’t really give a shit.
I get it now.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“They at odds like we used to be?”
A smile tips the corners of my lips, because I know if I, of all people, can sort my shit, then Ace and Mason have a fighting chance. “Yeah,” I reply, gruff. “Like we used to be.”
* * *
Arcadia
We move out on to Mum and Dad’s back deck. There’s a wicker outdoor setting in the corner, which is basically a table with a glass top and a low-lying chaise lounge. A chilly breeze is blowing through, making me long for one of Mum’s warm mulled pear and ginger cocktails, but I’m not allowed because of my injury, at least not yet. You would think it makes me the designated driver, right? Wrong. Because we came on Kelly’s bike, and he wouldn’t let God himself touch that ride, let alone me. So he’s restricted to one drink so he can drive us home safely.
I don’t have my jacket, so I grab the pale blue throw from the lounge and settle it around my shoulders before I turn and perch on the edge.
It brings my brother to eye level, and I wait for him to unleash, the tension between us palpable. He opens his mouth then closes it, as if he’s not sure what to say.
I wait, watching my brother, remembering our history and the way we used to be. The way we laughed as we burned rubber around the school in those stupid golf carts. The way he held me all night while I cried and cried after being sentenced to juvenile detention for six months. He was devastated at seeing me locked away. There were nights he would sneak out to see his girlfriend and have me cover for him, though he never let me do the same with Johnny. We were mates. Co-conspirators. Best friends.
And I realise I’m not angry at Mason anymore. I’m just sad. Resigned. I’ll hear what he has to say, but if it involves him heaping any more shit on Kelly then he already has, or if he threatens me to choose, then I’m standing up and walking out, and I’m taking that Sentinel biker with me.
Maybe that makes me selfish for choosing Kelly after everything my brother and I have been through. Maybe it makes me selfish for loving him. For refusing to give him up. How could I not? Kelly is beautiful. He deserves everything. Everything. But don’t I deserve a bit of happiness too?
“I don’t want to fight with you, Ace,” he says eventually, exhaling a heavy sigh. His gaze runs over my injuries as he speaks quietly. “I’m not angry at you. I’m not angry at Kelly. I’m not angry at anyone else but myself.”
“Oh, Mason.” My heart sinks. My brother has been hurt terribly. I know he’s lashed out unfairly because of it, but it doesn’t mean I want him putting everything upon his own shoulders. “Please don’t.”
“It’s true. I was an asshole. I’m your brother. I’m your fucking brother, Ace, and when you were at a point in your life where you needed me to be there, to have your back like you always had mine, I pushed you away. I wasn’t there, and I’m so angry. So angry. And sorry,” he chokes out and looks away, blinking, his jaw trembling.
His apology tears me in two. “Stop,” I say, my vision blurring. I wipe beneath my eyes. “You’ll ruin my makeup.” And I applied loads because I wanted to cover the bruising.
“You look better without that shit on your face anyway,” he says, trying for a teasing tone but failing miserably because there’s too much pain, too much emotion, in his voice.
“Don’t let Mum ever hear you say that.” Mum will probably be buried with her makeup kit.
“She’d shit a brick.”
“Yeah.”
We sit quietly for a moment.
“Racer told me everything Kelly did. With getting the Feds involved. Punching Miles. Getting him suspended and Marchetti locked up. I’m an idiot, Ace. I painted him with a shitty brush before I even knew him. I was so wrong. I can’t even believe how wrong I was.”
“Damn straight you were an idiot.” We both turn at Kelly’s comment. He’s standing by the open French doors
, a soda water in his hand because when it comes to riding on the road, my man is responsible. “I came to tell you dinner’s ready.”
Mason nods. “I was just apologising to Ace.”
Kelly nods back. Men. It’s all about the head nod. “Good. I know she’ll accept it because that’s who Ace is,” he says, as if I’m not even a part of the conversation. “But she’s built up walls with you now. It’s gonna take action rather than words to knock ’em down.”
And there he goes again, defending me to the last breath. This man. I just can’t. I would never survive losing him.
“Yeah, I get that. I appreciate that you’re looking out for her. That you were there for her when I wasn’t.” My brother takes a deep breath, wincing as he speaks because it’s hard for him. “I need to apologise to you too.”
“I accept,” Kelly says without letting him speak further.
“I don’t deserve that.”
“You’ve been through a helluva lot.” Kelly shrugs. “I’m not going to rake you over the coals and make it all worse. Yeah, you lashed out. Yeah, you took some time to get over it. So did Ace. But you just had the balls to admit you were wrong and then apologise for it. I respect that.”
Mason turns his chair and wheels toward Kelly. He holds out a hand. Kelly shakes it, both of them holding firmly before letting go. “What can I do to make it right?”
Kelly looks at me before turning to look at Mason again. “You could move back in?”
Mason grins. “Deal.”
“Good,” he says, he’s eyes finding mine and holding them, even while he’s still talking with my brother. “If you wouldn’t mind, I need a minute alone with my woman before we sit down to eat.”
Mason leaves, wheeling himself through the French doors and disappearing, and all the while I watch him go, my shoulders feel lighter and my heart fills with hope. I have a future, one with family and Kelly, and Kelly’s family, and maybe that future won’t include finance anymore, and I admit I won’t be crying any tears over that, but I will work it out. Seriously. I have this shit handled.
“What are you grinnin’ at, babe?” Kelly asks, stalking his way toward me.
I rise from the lounge. “You.”
His arms slide around my waist, lowering until the cheeks of my ass are gripped firmly in his hands. My hips are yanked against his body. “Why?”
“Because I’m happy. You make me happy.” And I get to go inside and enjoy a Sunday family dinner with everyone I love.
Kelly rubs his crotch against my lower belly. “I got somethin’ that’ll make you even happier.”
My head tips back and I laugh. His lewdness shouldn’t make me want him more but it does. His mouth lands on my neck, kissing me there. “Is this why you needed a minute alone with me?” I ask as his lips travel along my skin, sending goose bumps rising. I tilt my head to give him better access. “To make filthy suggestions and grope me at my parents’ house?”
“Hell yes it is.”
“You’re a donkey.”
“Chunks.”
“Donkey.”
“Babe.”
Epilogue
Arcadia, six months later.
I wake slowly, feeling the bright light of the morning burn my eyelids. I moan and roll over, yanking the sheet up and over my head. Then I yank it back down, suffocated. We’re in the height of summer, the type of summer where you need to wear oven mitts to protect your hands from the blistery hot steering wheel of your car. The kind where you crack a sweat at eight in the morning because the sun is up and already on the warpath. The kind where you cannot get any sleep because it’s just too damn hot.
I open my eyes. Ugh. It’s so bright. I close them and try catching the tail end of the weird dream I was having. Dinosaurs had overtaken the city, and we were fleeing in a beautifully restored Dodge Charger as they chased after us. The upholstery was absolutely mint, and I threw up all over it. “Babe,” Kelly had said and I turned to look at him … only it wasn’t him. It was Vin Diesel but Kelly’s voice. I love Kelly’s voice, which is probably why Vin was using it. It’s a man’s voice, all deep and rough and what dreams are made of, literally.
“Ace.” My shoulder is prodded. I wobble on the bed. “Wake up, babe.”
Seriously? No. You have a sexy voice, Kelly, in my dreams and out of them, and I could lie here all day listening to it, but I’m not waking up for it. My eyes remain closed as I try sliding back into blessed sleep.
“Ace. It’s graduation day.” The sheet is ripped from my body and a slap lands on my bare ass. It’s only light but I feel the sting, enough to want to kick out with my leg in retaliation. But I don’t. I’m trying to play possum here. “You made me promise on the engine of a Mustang to wake you if you slept through your alarm.”
Fuck. I do remember saying that last night. And I remember drinking with Kelly too, but not enough to give me the hangover I’m feeling right now. We went to a nearby bar, just the two of us. It was crowded and rowdy with fairy lights covering the ceiling. I wore a brand-new black corset top and my black leather pants, thrilled because it got Kelly all hot and bothered, which was my aim. We haven’t spent much time together of late. Kelly has been working double-time to finish a restoration, and I’ve taken on extra course loads to finish my degree early after changing my major from finance to management, having discussed taking over management of Rehab once I gain some experience. I’m not a quitter. Up and leaving my studies when I didn’t have long to go would have been a waste of the work I’d already put in. And the money.
So last night we drank beers together until the early hours, and Kelly spun me around on the dance floor until I was drunk and dizzy. Except now my head is pounding and my stomach is very unhappy. I don’t understand it. Beer doesn’t give me a hangover. A bloated belly, yes. But not this.
“I don’t care. I just want to sleep,” I mutter, hoping he’ll go away, but my hopes are shattered when I feel Kelly seat himself on the edge of my bed. My body dips toward him.
“But I have a present for you.”
My eyes fly open like he just whispered abracadabra and blew fairy dust into the air around me. I turn my head, my hangover gone in an instant.
Kelly is grinning at me, clad in nothing but a pair of jeans. His beard is still short so the dimple pops, but his hair has grown and sits thick and mussed on his head. I want to open my mouth and tell him he’s present enough because honestly, he really is, but I love unwrapping gifts. The anticipation is almost as good as what’s inside.
“You do?” I turn and rise to a seated position, a little breathless, my eyes darting about the room. I don’t see anything wrapped. “Where?”
“You have to get dressed first.”
Say no more. I flee the bed naked, stumbling and hopping as my legs tangle in the sheets. I half drag them off with me as I race to the tallboy in the corner of my room. Then I pause, halfway through opening a drawer, and half-turn, so excited I can barely keep still. “What should I be wearing?”
His eyes rove slowly over me, and they get that lazy glint that warns me he’s ready to pounce.
“Kelly! Eyes up here.” I point to my face. We had sexy times twice last night. It seems Kelly is aiming for a trifecta. And I can get on board with that. After my gift.
“Clothes,” he says to my tits, his voice heated.
“Yes, but what kind?” I ask, impatient. “What am I dressing for?” Maybe it’s a destination present. A breakfast picnic. Hot-air ballooning. Or one of those zip-lining obstacle course things, which supposedly double as an emotional breakthrough. I’ve seen the advertisements. You fly through the air in a harness at great heights and basically experience a rebirth. It would make sense because it’s my graduation. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. And I love those kinds of gifts—even though there’s nothing to unwrap, you have a memory for life.
“Zip-lining?” I question without giving him a chance to respond. “Because you have to dress in heavy gear for that, righ
t?” I turn back to my drawers as I try recalling where I left my boyfriend jeans. They’re the most heavy-duty item of clothing I own. “You don’t want that harness riding too hard up your clacker,” I mutter to myself, shoving clothes aside as I hunt for them.
“Babe.” There’s amusement in Kelly’s voice. “We’re not goin’ zip-lining. We can do that one day if that’s what you want, but I’m just suggestin’ you might wanna get dressed before you leave your room.”
“My gift is out there?”
“Your brother is out there makin’ breakfast.”
“Is that my present? Mason cooking me breakfast?” My excitement drops just a little. Not to be ungrateful, but Mason burns toast. And I choked on his last attempt at making freshly squeezed tropical juice because there was a lump of rind in it and some unidentified floating black things.
“No, your present is outside.”
“Outside? What is it?”
“A surprise.”
Kelly is a vault. It only heightens my anticipation and my impatience. I really need a shower, but it will have to wait. After pulling on a pair of panties and jean shorts, I grab the first shirt I see and tug it on. It’s a black tank top with white lettering that says: If everything seems under control, you’re not going fast enough. Racer bought it for me when he and Mason attended the Muscle Car Masters at Sydney Motorsport Park two years ago. I missed it because I had to study. They came home smelling of engine oil and hotdogs, their eyes bright like kids at Christmas. My jealousy raged so hot I wanted to smack the grins from their faces. But then Racer presented me with the wrapped gift of the shirt and it, too, smelled of engine oil and hotdogs. My resentment died a quick death. Not because of the gift, though it helped, but because it was the first time I’d seen my brother so happy in ages. He was smiling.
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