“Angel, I’m beginning to think you only love me for my body,” Carter surmised. He was sprawled on his back, his leg hidden beneath the sheets.
Straddling his waist, I held his hand in mine, tracing every curve of muscle and bone. His fingers were calloused. His nail beds, long but trimmed. Veins trailed up the back of his hand. I followed them up his arm, ran my hand over his bicep, squeezed. “Not only for your body, but it’s a pretty nice bonus.”
Wrapping my waist, he rolled and pinned me beneath him. “I beg to differ. You’re much prettier to look at.”
“I wasn’t done.” Not nearly. I wanted to memorize him, every delicious curve.
“Baby’s gonna wake up soon. If we hurry…”
Wrapping my legs around his waist, I rolled, taking him with me. The sheets fell to the floor. My vagina felt like sandpaper, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He would start brooding again over the mismanaged loss of my virginity. Technically, that had been the better part of a year ago, but I suppose nine months between your first and last encounter were somewhat counterproductive in the acclimatizing to his width—which he still denied vehemently.
Inching down his waist, I pushed his hands above his head, resuming my appraisal of his physique. “Don’t worry. I won’t t-take long.” Leaning down, I ran my tongue around his nipple, rolled it gently between my teeth.
“Angel,” he sucked through his teeth in warning.
Stifling a grin, I inched lower, alternately nipping at his chest, and soothing it with my tongue. He flinched when my fingers brushed his ribs, and I received a withering glance for it. I promptly disregarded the exchange, my focus elsewhere.
A goldmine if I’d ever seen one, his cock lay stiff between the curves of his Adonis belt. Staring hungrily, I wet my lips with a sweep of my tongue, and nearly jumped out of my skin when the door rumbled with a knock.
“Company coming,” Jake called. “Richard’s called a meeting.”
“How long?” Carter inquired, meeting my eyes.
“Not long enough, asshole.”
As Jake’s footsteps faded down the hall, Iain stirred in his crib. Carter sighed, dropping his head to the mattress. “This is going to be interesting.”
“I think we should drag our f-feet,” I suggested. “By the time we’re done, the others will be here t-to buffer his attitude.”
“I plan to,” Carter agreed. “Gotta get in the shower.” Rolling out of the bed, he beelined it for the bathroom. The smell hit me a second later.
“You are such a wuss!” I exclaimed, tossing a pillow at the door. “It’s just a dirty diaper!”
“Just the smell of it makes me gag,” Carter retorted. Retching noises echoed from the bathroom where he was hiding. “Ack!”
“That doesn’t even sound real.” Sulking, I climbed out of bed and grabbed my clothes from the floor. “What do you think Iain McBean? Is Daddy f-full of poo?” I asked, to which Iain replied with a burgeoning wail. My nose wrinkled. “Like f-f-father like son.”
Quickly tugging my clothes on, I made quick work of changing his diaper. Then, I threw the sheets back, roughly making the bed. Carter’s clothes, I folded and left neatly on the sink. Iain’s bundled—but warm—diaper rested atop them, the cherry on top.
“Should we brave Uncle Jake alone?” I asked Iain. Scooping him from the crib, I rested him on my shoulder and headed down the stairs just as the shower sputtered to a stop. Someday, karma would catch up with his daddy. In the meantime, I’d deliver my own brand of justice.
In the kitchen, I found Jake making a fresh pot of coffee, while Paisley rooted through the fridge for something edible. Her head popped up over the door as I came into the room.
“You look much better,” she observed, a wry smile toiling at the corners of her lips.
“I feel great.” I glanced at Jake, who glanced at me.
“Go ahead. Don’t let me stop you.” Lifting the pot from the base, he poured himself a fresh cup. “God knows, you didn’t give a care in the world what I heard last night.” He’d muttered the latter, though barely checked.
“It’s my house.”
“Not technically, but you do have a nice bed. Doesn’t make a sound. You know, I never thought about memory foam before. I might have to pick one up for myself.”
“Ew! Please t-tell me you’re kidding.” Jake’s smirk was enough to make me cringe. “It’s brand new!” I complained. “I haven’t even used it yet!”
“Remember that when you lay your face on the sofa,” Jake added. “Where else have we… the kitchen table… the counter...”
“Jake!” Paisley protested, suddenly modest.
“The piano, I’m taking,” Jake continued. “Don’t need to worry about that.”
My nose wrinkled. I frowned. “You’re so disgusting.”
“Me?” Jake protested. “If that ain’t the pot calling the kettle…”
Paisley stepped between us, grasping Jake’s hand hard enough to garner his attention. “You said you were going to behave.”
“I am.”
“What do you mean, ‘not technically,’” I inquired, changing the subject. I didn’t need the two to argue on my account. Not that Paisley wouldn’t appreciate the makeup sex.
“The paperwork needs to be filed to transfer the deed. I just can’t find it.”
There was a double knock on the back door. Tate walked in with Coop in tow. The two glanced around the room, measuring their surroundings. “Richard’s on his way in. Pulled in behind us. Where’s Carter?”
“Hiding,” Jake replied.
“I’m not hiding,” Carter retorted. “I was a little busy picking my guts up off the floor. My head is killing me.” Contrary to his claim, he sauntered into the room, freshly showered and looking like the sight of perfect health. I suppose years on the road had him accustomed to living on the fly.
“Maybe you shoulda tried using the door,” Jake suggested. Lifting his coffee, he took a deep gulp, and winced. Headed for the fridge for more milk.
“If I thought anyone would’ve opened it, I would have.”
“I’m a little lost,” Tate admitted, glancing between the two of them. “What the hell happened?”
“Idiot was too impatient to wait until morning to defend his ego, so he climbed the roof. Mattie beamed him in the head with my bat when he came through the window.”
“Did not!” Tate laughed. “For real?”
“I thought he was an intruder,” I explained. “Apparently Coop’s not the only one that attracts homicidal maniacs. I can’t believe none of you t-told me.”
“We didn’t want you to worry,” Carter replied. “You would’ve been jumping over every little creak, constantly looking over your shoulder.”
Coop slid onto the stool next to me. She opened her arms. I passed her Iain, who was still satisfied with the knuckle of his thumb. “I told them you were better off. It’s no way to live,” she explained, ogling over his hair and cheeks. “Jeez he’s all Whalen. I don’t see a bit of Carter in him.”
“Thanks,” Carter griped. He opened the cabinet, and began rooting through my medications for some sort of pain reliever.
“It’s true,” she replied in defense.
“You could lie. Placate me a little.”
“I think he has your appetite.”
Carter glowered, but curbed himself with a few oxycodone.
“Should you be taking those?” I asked. “What if you have a concussion?” I turned to Paisley who shrugged and bit back a smile.
“Other than a headache, he seems fine. And he might’ve avoided that too if he’d gotten any sleep last night.”
I opted to bite my tongue and remain argumentative in order to avoid attracting interest in the latter of her diagnosis. I’d thought Carter and I were reasonably quiet, but it appeared that wasn’t the case. Besides, Tate and Cooper didn’t need to know all the dirty details.
Richard spared me from further scrutiny when he walked through the door. “No. I’m not representing Mr. Álvaro. I’m going to recommend what’s best for my clients and their families; that Mr. Álvaro remain behind bars where he belongs.” Swearing under his breath, he lowered the phone from his ear and ended the call. “Fucking lazy pieces of shit. Do your fucking jobs.”
“Two f-bombs,” Carter observed. “Must be good news.”
“Yes and no,” Richard replied. Placing his briefcase on the floor, he removed his jacket, and draped it over the back of the chair. “Where’s Shane when you need him? Coffee is just not going to cut it today.”
“Tell me what you need,” Carter offered. “Between Angel and I, we probably have it in the cabinet there.”
“Coffee,” Richard settled. “Heavy on the sugar.” Resting on the stool, he kept one foot on the floor. “The glue on Mr. Álvaro’s fingertips finally wore off. They were able to get a clean set of prints. There was a match in the database.”
“So, he has a record.”
“Attempted murder,” Richard confirmed. “Accused but not convicted.”
“Fucker,” Carter swore. “Why isn’t he already in prison?”
“He fled the scene before the police could arrive. They were able to lift his fingerprints from the vehicle, but with no priors and no eye witnesses, he was able to evade arrest. Coop,” said Richard, looking her in the eye. “He’s the driver of the white van, the man who attacked you back in Pennsylvania.”
“Holy fucking shit,” Jake added.
Tate grasped Coop’s shoulder and squeezed. She placed her hand over his. Her other hand went over her mouth, stifling a reply while she fully grasped this news.
“There’s more,” Richard warned. “He’s been trying to access Tate’s property. Seems your four-legged security has been doing their jobs.”
“Em’s dogs?” Coop asked.
Richard nodded. “He was tossing raw meat to them over the fence as a distraction. He almost succeeded too. The day the band left to finish the tour, Coop had been walking the property. He was hiding in the hedges. If Paisley hadn’t been with you…”
“This is insane.” Paisley pushed a hand through her hair, her head shaking back and forth with disbelief. Jake reached out and stroked her back, assuring himself she was safe.
“His latest attempt on her life was an act of desperation. The officials think he mistook Mattie for Coop, but Álvaro will neither confirm nor deny.”
Coop broke down in tears. Unable to bear anymore, she turned and buried her face into Tate’s chest.
“I have my own suspicion that both girls were targets,” Richard theorized. “And for good reason. The police have been building evidence against Álvaro, pulling phone records, checking alibis, previous work history… he worked for Amanda Keller’s family. He was their groundskeeper for a short time. From the statements you’ve given previously about the incident in Missoula, she likely held a grudge against Mattie, too.”
The room erupted.
Tate asked the question everyone wanted to know, but was too stupefied to articulate. “Have they arrested her?”
“Not yet. They have to have sufficient evidence.”
“Christian Álvaro still isn’t talking.”
“No,” Richard replied. “He’s still holding out for the plea deal. Now, he has a little more leverage. If Amanda catches suspicion, she’s liable to flee jurisdiction—if she didn't the moment Mr. Álvaro was arrested. Christian wanted to be furloughed so he could be with his daughter during her heart surgery. In return, he’d provide exactly what we needed to lock up Amanda Keller…testimony.
“Why not give him what he wants?” I inquired.
A resounding chorus on nos filled the room.
“Amanda Keller is obviously the dangerous one,” I pointed out. “He might be in prison, but what's t-t-to keep her f-from hiring someone else?”
“It's only a matter of time until we have the evidence we need to arrest her,” Richard assured. “You don't need to worry. You're safe.”
Right. Hence the reason for security parking outside day and night.
“What if we offer him something better?” I amended. “Something he couldn't refuse.”
“We ain't offering him dog shit,” Carter scoffed. “Like Richard said, if the DA would do his damn job, this fucking criminal wouldn’t have a leg to stand on.”
“It’s more f-for his daughter than him,” I said to mollify him. I'd laid in bed all night thinking about it. Mr. Kovač had said if anything good could come of this…
“His daughter is a ward of the state,” Richard advised. “She'll have the surgery she needs. He should be thankful enough for that.”
“She has no one,” I pressed on. “Not one relative or friend of the family t-to look after her. No one who will be there when she wakes up f-from surgery. She's a baby. She'll be scared. Wanting her daddy. She's supposed t-to t-take solace f-from some strange nurse, volunteer, or orderly…? Do none of you remember your stay in the hospital?”
“It's sucks, Angel, but it's out of our hands.”
“Just hear me out,” I pleaded. “This guy was willing t-to go t-to any lengths for his daughter. He wants the best f-for her. We can offer that t-to her, while getting what we need t-to put Amanda Keller away.”
“What exactly are you suggesting we offer?” Richard asked, biting.
“A home.”
“No,” Carter refused. “No way.”
“Not us,” I clarified. “Em.”
“She’s not a stray dog, Mattie,” Jake mocked. “She’s a baby.”
“Exactly my point. Em wants a baby more than anything. This little girl needs someone t-to care for her. She needs a home, not t-to jump f-from f-foster f-family t-to f-foster f-family. The adoption would be clean…private. There will be no contest. Her f-father would be stupid not t-to agree. Look at the life Em could offer her…”
“The guy’s obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed,” Carter voiced. “He’s an attempted murderer. Twice.”
I looked at Richard, pinned him with my gaze. “Just make the petition. What’s it going to hurt?”
“Em would have to agree first,” he reasoned. “We can’t approach the prosecutor without—”
“Coop will call her now.”
“Are we really serious?” Coop asked, looking around the room.
“This is insane,” Paisley said. “She might actually go for it.”
“We’re talking Emster here,” Carter mused. “Asking her if she wants a baby is like asking Coop if she likes ice cream or if Paisley likes spankings.”
Richard blinked. Shaking his head, dispelling the thought, he pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’m going to make a call, see if we can get a few pictures of the baby.”
“It won’t matter,” Coop said.
“It won’t hurt, either.”
“You’re actually considering this,” Carter surmised.
“The prosecutor is eager to win this case. He’s young. It’s high profile. It’ll gain him a ton of exposure,” Richard said as he dialed his phone. Placing it to his ear, he ambled into the next room. “Michael…? Richard…I have a proposition…”
“What’re you waiting f-for?” I prompted Coop.
♪ ♫ ♪ ♫
“What did I tell you!” Em exclaimed, coming through the door. “It worked! Never doubt Nonna’s curse breaking skills! We got her! We finally got her!”
“I’m pretty sure I have no idea what she’s t-talking about,” I said to Carter. Curse breaking skills?
“That makes two of us.”
“Something about someone casting Coop the evil eye,” Paisley explained. “She did some kind of curse rebounding spell with Coop’s hair, a bowl of water, and some olive oil.”
“It was really unimpressive,” Jake added. When Em glared at him, he quickly changed his tune. “But hey…it worked like a charm. That’s what counts.”
“Not exactly,” I hedged. “We don't have her yet.”
“We don't,” Em repeated disconsolately. “What're we waiting for?”
We gave Em a rundown of the situation, while being ambiguous about the exact details of the plea deal. There, Richard stepped in, placing the photos of Christian’s daughter on the counter.
“Merda!” Em said, picking up the pictures. “Look at those cheeks! I could just eat her alive!”
Sophia Isabella Álvaro was beautiful, with long black curls and olive skin. She had large, chocolate brown eyes, and dimples that carved into her cheeks when she smiled.
“So, what's the deal?” Em inquired. “What does he want?”
“She’s sick,” I explained. “He wants t-to be f-furloughed so he can be with her during the surgery.”
Em made a noise of derision. “Like that's going to happen.”
“He doesn't have any f-family,” I explained. “No one, not even an acquaintance t-to be there f-for her. She's going t-to have heart surgery, and she's going t-to go through it all alone.”
“Angel here wants you to adopt her,” Carter spouted, cutting to the chase.
The pictures hit the counter. Em panned the room, wondering whether she should laugh. “This is a joke, right?”
“Way to ease her into the idea, Carter,” Paisley scoffed. “Smooth. Real smooth.”
“Oh, come on. She's a big girl. There's no point in beating around the bush. We’re on a tight deadline.”
“You're all serious.” Em looked distraught. Understandably, it was a lot to take in.
“The DA has some lawyers drawing up the papers now,” Richard confirmed. “They want to present it to him this afternoon.”
“This is a baby,” Em stated. “You want me to adopt the baby of the man who tried to murder the two of you.”
“Why should the child pay f-for the sins of the f-father?” I countered. “She’s innocent in all of this.”
“Marone,” Em muttered. She picked up the pictures, looked at them again. “This is insane.”
Shane cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.
“Oh. My. God,” I said eloquently. He had the ring in his hand. Tears rushed to my eyes. This was so happening.
“We can do this together,” he told her. He extended his hand, proffering the ring. “I’m in if you are.”
Shane was never one for words. Proposing—in front of everyone—took guts. I’d heard bits and pieces of his upbringing. It wasn’t pleasant. This was a huge step. A leap of faith. No one deserved happiness more. …If Em refused, I’m might jump her and pull her hair out.
Em stared, her mouth bobbing wordlessly.
Carter pulled his phone from his pocket and started recording.
Abruptly, Em leapt onto Shane, wrapping her arms around his neck, and nearly taking him down. He fought to maintain his balance and not drop the ring or his prospective fiancée.
“I think that’s a yes,” Carter observed. “I believe our boy Shane just got himself engaged.”
Coop looked as bad as I did. She had a balled up napkin in her hand, with which she alternated blotting one eye and then the other. I blamed it on the hormones, seeing that Paisley was holding her shit together.
Gram would’ve been tickled pink. Her home was still alight with love and family. There would be children here. Tons of children. It’s what we’d both wanted.
“Is that a yes?” Shane inquired, finally regaining a semblance of coherence from Em. Dropping back to her heels, she nodded exuberantly, fighting tears. Shane popped the velvet box open and lifted the ring from its setting. Em gasped, but offered her hand, which was shaking.
“Yes,” she managed, thickly. Shane slid the ring onto her finger, smiling with relief when it showed no resistance. When his gaze met hers again, it was filled with triumph.
Tate lifted his fingers to his mouth and blew a shrill whistle. The rest of us broke into applause, offering them our heartfelt congratulations.
“We need to toast to this,” Jake advised. “Coop, take stance.” Coop shielded her face as Jake popped the cork from a bottle of champagne. Foam shot out of the bottle, dribbled onto the floor. “Well, they say it’s not a party until something gets spilled.”
“If I can interrupt…” Richard implored. “Just for a minute or two. I hate to blemish the occasion, but I have a phone call to the prosecutor to make, and I’d like to confirm that the acceptance was across the board before doing so.”
Em looked to Shane, who raised an eyebrow. The decision was hers. She pondered it for a half second longer, and nodded her head. “I’m in.”
“This by no means guarantees Mr. Álvaro’s agreement.” Richard stepped closer, placed a hand on her shoulder. “The generosity and compassion of your offer alone attests to the kind of mother you would be, but he doesn’t have a history of making good decisions.”
“This is barely settled in, Richard,” she assured. “I’ll be fine.”
“It’s a long shot, but I'll make the call.” He reached for a glass of champagne, lifted it into the air. “I've never met a more insane, more beautiful group of people in the world. Your love truly knows no bounds. Don't ever let that change.”