She shakes her head. “Not true. Don’t believe your own lies, Oliver.”
“How did you do that?” I sit up on my elbow, taking her in, those crystal eyes of hers pulling me in. Skyla shouldn’t hear me. I didn’t let down my guard. There’s no way her powers have the authority to usurp mine.
“You’re right. They don’t.” An incredible sadness weighs down her features. “I guess you can say it’s sort of a loaner power gifted from you. The boys made me strong, but it’s fading. Each day these new gifts wane just a little bit more. I’m not as powerful as you are, Gage. And one day soon I will no longer be able to penetrate that minefield of secrets you have.”
“There won’t be any more secrets.” I steal a kiss from the hollow of her neck. “Let’s make a pact, Skyla”—I pick up her hand—“a covenant amongst ourselves, that we remain strong as steel.”
“Strong as the Steel Barricade?” Her smile flexes in amusement. “I like that. The impenetrable steel wall of our love. We are our own. We belong to us. They can’t have us. They can’t take what rightfully belongs to you and to me.”
“Our love is strong as steel, as relentless as time, as stubborn as death. We are one life, you and I. We cannot be broken.”
“Our love is strong as steel.” Her fingers rake across my back until I’m over her, balancing my weight on my elbows, careful not to crush her.
“To a new beginning,” I whisper over her lips.
“The portal to forever.”
Forever. That’s exactly how long our love will last.
And for the first time for as long as I can remember, I don’t feel Logan’s shadow hovering over our bed. Logan has dissipated, evaporated into the past, dissolved into the atmosphere like some long-dead ghost. It’s just Skyla and I—destiny can approve or disapprove. It doesn’t really matter. We’re happening. And we always will be.
A hard knock emits over the door, and I pull Skyla in even tighter like a reflex. My mind floats easily back into a dream as my body gives way to thick, delicious sleep once again.
Pressured knocking picks up again as my lids struggle to pry themselves open. Skyla takes a deep, audible breath, pressing her bare bottom into my stomach, and I bury a kiss in her hair.
“Skyla?” Lizbeth’s voice resonates clear as if she were in the room, and I force myself to wake the hell up. “Oh, my! Is that you, Gage?”
I give a few tired blinks, and Lizbeth’s disembodied head seems to be floating over the dresser. It takes a moment for me to realize she’s burst through the door and moved the dresser over a few inches as she tries to muscle her way into the room.
“Mother!” Skyla pulls a pillow over her head and gives a sharp scream.
“I can’t believe this!” Lizbeth’s face lights up red as a Valentine heart. “My God, is this real? I wished for this to happen. I mean, I prayed. Heck, I even saw that father of yours and fell on my knees for him to do something for God’s sake—but this?” Her gaze rides down the length of me, and her mouth falls open once she hits pay dirt.
I glance down to find the sheets wrapped around Skyla’s chest, the rest of them off the bed, leaving my own body as naked as the day I was born. And shit. Is she staring at my crotch?
“Wow.” Her fingers tap over her lips a moment, but those eyes are still firmly pinned to my dick. “Just wow. Gage Oliver…” She staggers unsteady on her feet.
“We’ll be down in a minute.” I sit up and casually pull the pillow from Skyla’s face and land it on my lap.
“Oh, Skyla.” She shakes her head at her mortified daughter. “I’ve always known you were a lucky girl. But this?”
Skyla beams a tiny stuffed elephant at her mother, and Lizbeth vacates the premises, shutting the door behind her.
“I’ll make brunch!” she shouts from the other side. “Take your time! Get back to whatever it is you were doing!”
“Aww, sick,” a faint female voice rises alongside hers. One of Skyla’s sisters no doubt.
Skyla falls against my chest and gives my leg a light scratch. “Welcome to my fabulous life.”
“It is fabulous.” I pull her up and steal a kiss off her lips. “It’s our life, and I’m damn glad to be in it.”
“You are?” Her clear eyes tear up, making them shine ten times brighter. Skyla is the only person I know that has a shooting star buried in her eyes. She’s magnificent, spectacular, and has the power to take my breath away with something as innocuous as a question.
“I am.” I pull her over me, and her body molds to mine. “How about we hit that brunch, then maybe we can get the boys and get lost for a few hours?”
She looks up, and her wild hair fans out over my face. “Sorry.” She brushes it away with a soft giggle locked in her throat. “How about first I make your day?” Her knee grazes over my balls.
“I’m afraid our powers combined aren’t enough to barricade your mother from the bedroom. I had that door locked.” I wince at the thought of Skyla deep-throating me and Lizbeth providing the cheering section.
“Who said anything about the bedroom?” Her fingers drip down my chest until they hit home, and my entire body comes to life at her touch. “I’m in need of a serious shower—and after last night, so are you.”
I don’t debate it. In one quick move, I pick her up and land us in the bathroom. Before too long, the relaxing spray of nice hot water rains down over us. Skyla leans back and lets the water dissolve her wooly mane to a sleek blonde waterfall running over her shoulders. The water beads off her flesh, off her beautiful lips, and it’s in this moment I decide that Skyla is mine in this life and after it. Life cannot stop the two of us from being together, and I’m not letting death stop it either. It’s a peculiar thought for a peculiar day, but a blessed day—a new beginning. I pull her in close, my hard-on already close to home where it needs to be.
“I love you,” I whisper, my lids hanging heavy at the sight of my gorgeous wife with the steam rising around her as if venerating her beauty. “Go ahead”—a dull smile comes to my lips—“make my day.”
Skyla drops to her knees and does just that.
About an hour later, Skyla and I sail downstairs with a spring in our steps, my entire body one hundred percent satisfied, and my antenna already going up in hopes to get more of the same later tonight.
“Here they are!” Lizbeth howls from the kitchen. Tad is seated at the table with a paper clutched in his hands, and he curls down a corner long enough to grunt. His left arm is still sticking straight out in a splint, still healing from the burn he endured a few months back, and I feel for the guy. Drake and Bree are seated at the bar, each with a matching bowl of cereal, the hot pink box acting as a partition between them. But my gaze goes straight to the family room floor where Mia and Melissa each hold a beautiful bouncing, happy to see us baby boy.
“Hey, little dude.” Mia hands me Barron, and I scoop Nathan from Melissa. “God, I’ve missed you guys.” I pepper both their faces with a spray of kisses. I’ve seen the boys every single day, but this day, with our family back intact, it feels as if I’m home from a long hiatus that I never want to repeat.
Nathan gives a hearty deep chuckle while gripping my hair at the temple, and I can’t help but land a kiss right over his sharp little dimple. Barron grunts and kicks and slaps the crap out of my face, and the room breaks out into laughter.
“So—you’re back, like for good? Or was this just some dirty booty call?” Melissa’s lip twitches with a look of disgust.
“I’m back.”
She scoffs to her sister. “Guess it’s time to get those earmuffs handy again.”
“Are you kidding?” Mia dusts herself off as she staggers to her feet. “I employed mine last night right after I heard the first slam of the headboard.”
Tad struts over, looking his usual disgruntled self. “Neither of you needs earmuffs because I paid a king’s ransom to make sure none of us would have to deal with that disgusting dirty noise pollution.”
It’
s true. A while back, Tad had the walls soundproofed by way of carpeting, and it’s been a blight to look at ever since. Another reason I need to get my act together and get my family the hell out of Dodge.
“I heard nothing.” Melissa grunts while glancing to my crotch.
“Well, I heard everything!” Mia spasms into my ear. “Why don’t the two of you pick up stakes and find somewhere else to do the nasty?”
“Mia!” Lizbeth waves her off with a flick of the wrist before scooping Barron out of my arms. “Believe you me, not one thing these two do in that bed of theirs qualifies as nasty—or dirty or disgusting, Tad Landon! Leave the lovebirds alone, would you?” She offers me a quick wink before nodding for Skyla and me to follow her to the kitchen. “Come check out the little project the boys and I worked on all night long.”
Rows and rows of parchment paper line the counter with hundreds of white chalky looking deformed cookies.
Tad steps over and pops a couple into his mouth and audible crunching ensues.
“Would you stop!” Lizbeth smacks him over the wrist. “Those are made of plaster!”
Tad spits them onto the floor so fast it looks like vomit.
“Crap.” Skyla takes Barron from me and shields his eyes. “What are those? They look—weird.”
“Vaginas!” Lizbeth says it just above a whisper, and Beau pops up from between her legs.
“Bagina! Bagina!” His cheeks are pinched pink, and judging by that mile wide grin of his, bagina is his new favorite word.
“Oh hush, you!” Lizbeth is light with the reprimand. “Go check on Misty and Ember for me.”
“No!” Beau ratchets up his pitching arm and smacks Lizbeth square on the bottom, and the room lights up with the sound. I know Beau has been a bit testy lately, but smacking his grandmother over the ass should be the line in the sand. I glance to Drake, but he’s all but drowning in his cereal bowl.
“Bree!” Skyla gasps at both Bree and Drake who lazily make their way over. “And, Mom, really? Vaginas?” she practically mouths the word.
“Yes!” Her eyes light up. “Chloe was right.” Crap. I should have known Chloe was instrumental in this anatomical lunacy. “I did a little research, and they’re all the rage right now. Look at this.” She pulls one from the corner painted a light pink with a tiny little pearl buried right in that magic spot.
Shit. I lean in to get a better look, and holy hell, it’s anatomically correct with every last crease and fold. Nathan does his best to snatch one, and I quickly move him out of range. It’s not your time, buddy.
Lizbeth holds it out for Skyla and me. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?” She pulls it to her chest as if to model it. “And the best part is the boys helped make them.” She gives Nathan a quick tickle. “Isn’t that right, Punky-Poo!”
“Helped make them?” Skyla looks as if she’s about to be sick, and I’m right there with her. “Don’t say that.” She twists the baby away from her mother, and he breaks out into a deep hearty chuckle. “My boys did no such thing.”
“Oh, but they did!” Her eyes light up with insanity as she clasps Barron by the ankle. “How do you think I got the shape so uniform? I used the boys’ feet to create a cast. And don’t you worry. I made sure to include my Nate Nate, too!” She gives Nathan’s toe a quick pinch, and he laughs while kicking her like a donkey.
“Shit,” I hiss under my breath. “You’re kidding, right?”
Drake lets out a honk of a laugh. “Brings new meaning to pussyfooting around, doesn’t it!”
Brielle lets out a cackle as she joins in on the fun. “Brings new meaning to family jewels!” She dots her finger over the pearl embedded at Lizbeth’s clitoral craft.
“Oh my loving God.” Skyla’s face pinches with color as rage percolates to the top of her eyeballs, and once again I’m right there with her, glaring at my mother-in-law without meaning to.
“You’re all sick in the head!” Mia snaps a few pictures of the rows and rows of unpainted pussies lying out like the latest bakery confections. “And now the world is going to know it, too!” Melissa joins her on a snapping spree, and I’m quick to wave my hand over the evidence.
“Would you knock it off?” I bark so loud the room rattles. “Delete that shit right now! These are my boys, and nobody is going to damage them like this.” God. Don’t they know things live on the Internet forever? The last thing I want is my boys being mercilessly called pussies for the rest of their days because of one irresponsible night with their grandmother of all people.
“Ha!” Tad pokes a finger into my chest. “You don’t get to talk to my girls that way. You watch that filthy, disgusting mouth of yours, Gregory! Or I’ll land you on your ear in five seconds flat!”
“You have the nerve to call me filthy and disgusting? Take a look at your wife’s latest offerings!”
A gasp comes from behind, presumably the wife in question.
“Whoa, dude.” Drake pulls me over to the fridge as if to defuse the situation.
But Tad’s not done with me yet. He comes at me with his finger wagging. “My wife is making a killing with this nonsense, and I don’t need your dirty mouth, or your ridiculous judgments making things harder for her. If she’s content whittling unmentionable parts, then I back her up one hundred percent.”
I glance back to Lizbeth with her hand on her chest, clearly melting at her husband’s sudden spurt of devotion.
“Okay.” I do my best to shrug it off, but I end up shuddering instead. “Then I’m good with it, too.” My cheek tugs to the side because I’m still not sure if I just spouted off the truth. “Just leave my kids out of it. Recast those things with Tad’s feet, and I’ll have no problem with it.”
A collective groan works through the room at the thought of large, overgrown, malodorous delicate female parts.
“Now that’s nonsense.” Lizbeth picks up Misty who just strolled in, and I can’t help but notice the resemblance between her and the boys. Damn Demetri, spraying his genetics all over the place. “I’ll use this precious angel and Ember. Their feet will be more than happy to serve. Besides, that way we can get some real feminine energy going.”
Mia balks at the idea. “The only place you’ll get those girls going is straight into the arms of social services. You’re nuts if you think employing two minors into your quasi-sex trade is a good idea.”
“Would you stop!” Lizbeth barks. “It is not a sex trade! You’re always so dramatic, Mia.”
“That’s right!” Tad pulls his pants up clear to his chest. “This is sex for money! We’re not giving anything away in this family—especially not our feet!”
Drake gives me a quick sock to the arm as he nods me a few feet into the family room. “The old lady and I are tying the knot, and I need you to step up as best man. Got it?”
I blink over at him, trying to digest what the hell he just said, but my eyes go straight to that widow’s peak buried in the center of this forehead. As intrusive as it is, it’s almost impressive. My head spins, still lost in Tad’s sex trade argument that quickly went south. I glance back to Skyla because I’d swear Drake and Bree tied the knot a long time ago, and I catch Lizbeth pulling her in.
“And my God—the length of him!” Lizbeth looks up, and our eyes meet for a few uncomfortable seconds.
Bree breaks out into a high-pitched laugh. “There’s a reason we called him the baseball bat in high school.” Leave it to Bree to evict any secrecy from their powwow.
“I’m done with this conversation.” Skyla stalks over, visibly irritated, and Barron’s dark hair wafts in the breeze, light as feathers. “What’s this about a best man?”
Brielle jumps three feet in the air. “The cat’s out of the bag! We’re getting married!”
“You are married,” Skyla flatlines, and I rub my shoulder against hers in a show of solidarity. Knew it.
“Not officially,” Bree snarks back. “Plus, we’re doing it right this time. Lots of money is being spent in the honor of our
big day.” She bats her lashes up at her prospective and current groom before turning to Skyla. “I thought to myself, why does Laken get to have you as her maid of honor? Why isn’t my bestie my freaking maid of honor? And then I remembered how lame it was that we just took off and eloped. I’m really sorry about that.” She bites her lip while posturing toward my wife. “But I’m going to make it all up to you now. I’ve already talked to Logan about letting us have the ceremony at Silent Cove on the Fourth of July, and we’ll have fireworks and cake, and the whole nine—”
Skyla cuts her off, “Laken yards. Wow. Are you sure you want to venture into copycat waters? We can do something really nice right here at the house.”
Tad gags from behind. “Don’t you think about it, son! I’ve got a good mind to put an end to all the freeloading that takes place around here.”
“Keep your cool, Pops.” Drake slaps him hard over the back, and Tad’s rigid extension salutes the ceiling. “Logan and I squared things away. And don’t worry. You raised me right. I offered him top dollar to have my ass hitched on his property.”
Tad shakes his face at Mach 5 as if coming to. “Top dollar? While, I’ll give you the entire Landon estate for half!” His face is still powdered with those plaster pussies he tried to shove down his throat.
“No, thanks.” Bree scowls at her father-in-law with a look of nausea. Not that I can blame her. “I’m doing it right. I want an evening wedding with all my friends and family present. Ellis is helping me score some entertainment through his dad’s connections. We’re talking big names here. I don’t even recall dancing at Laken’s mediocre beach bash.”
Skyla frowns at her best friend. “Just make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons. That would be for you and Drake. Don’t let what Laken does with her life dictate yours.”
“I don’t want to talk about that ho anymore.” Bree swats Beau away as he circles near her legs. “What’s important is that my bestie and I get back on track. And guess what, missy? You get to plot out my bachelorette party!”
Crown of Ashes Page 38
