A Redo (The Sterling Shore Series #6) (16 page)

Chapter 20

ALLIE

Thump.

Thump.

“Ahh…”

Thump. Thump.

“Right there!”

Thump. Thump.

“So fucking good,” he growls.

Then the pace quickens, and the headboard slaps the wall harder.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

My eyes are wide in horror as I listen to the sounds coming from next door. I can’t help but feel like I’ve read this book before.

“Kode!” Tria screams, and he releases something that’s a mixture of a growl and a guttural noise.

I cringe, realizing I’ve just heard something much too intimate. It’s two in the morning. Do they not sleep? Rye and Brin were doing the same thing just across the hall and woke me up over an hour ago. That’s when Kode and Tria started.

But I think it’s finally over. Maybe I can get a few hours of sleep—

Thump. Thump.

“Ahhh…”

Thump. Thump.

Growl.

I sit upright, glaring at the wall across from me. You have to be kidding me. Who is over there?

Thump. Thump.

“Harder!” Rain says loudly, and I curse while throwing the covers off me. I feel like I’m stuck in a porno, and I’m twisted because I’m a little turned on and envious. I’m hella envious.

Then the sounds behind my bed stir up again when Kode apparently finds it in himself to start all over with Tria. That can’t be normal. It sure as hell can’t be healthy.

With a mumbled curse, I climb out of bed, feeling the bottom of the silk gown slide down my legs to puddle at my feet. Melanie told me she bought it for me for Christmas, and I’ve honestly never slept in anything so soft and luxurious. Hell, it’s a gown for sleeping, but it looks better than most dresses I’ve worn.

The pale pink material is smooth with soft edges—not lace. And the split to the thigh is purely for the purpose of walking. I think. It’s actually sort of sexy, but I think it’s meant for walking, since it’d be hard to do without the slit.

I make it to a split in the hallways which almost looks like a four-way stop. And I tilt my head at what’s coming at me from the right.

“He drank the sleeping-pill soda over an hour ago. He should be down for the night,” Brin giggles, holding a cowboy hat in her hand.

Ethan is laughing as he holds several tubes of something in both hands. Is that body paint?

Maverick is on the other side of her, also laughing, and he clutches a pair of fuzzy, pink handcuffs and tubes that match the ones Ethan has. I’m staring, tilting my head, doing all I can to add up the impossible math.

What… the… hell?

They all three stagger to a halt when they see me, and Brin squeals a little as though I just scared her. My eyebrow cocks, and Brin looks back and forth between the guys on either side of her before her gaze lands on the cowboy hat in her hand.

A horrified expression crosses her face before she quickly rambles, “It’s not what it looks like!”

I have no idea what it looks like. Maybe my mind is in the wrong place due to the action and carnal sounds I was subjected to earlier. Because I feel like I left the middle of a porno and stumbled into the beginning of another.

“
O…kay
…” I just let the word trail off, and Maverick bursts out laughing as I walk on, pretending as though that wasn’t one of the strangest things I’ve ever seen.

It takes a while to get to the other side of the house. I have a feeling Wren wanted me as far away as possible. Maybe going to his room is a bad idea.

When I finally reach the east wing, it takes me only a minute to remember which rooms are which. I peek into Angel’s room, and smile when I see her still sleeping peacefully under the glow of the nightlight. Quietly, I shut the door, and I move to the door where I know Wren is.

I hope he doesn’t get pissed about being woken up.

Just as I raise my hand to knock, I hear a voice that startles the hell out of me. “Allie?”

Twirling around, I release a breath as my eyes fall on Billy Prize. He runs a hand through his short, dark hair as his eyes rake over me from head to toe.

“I was… um… just coming to talk to Wren,” I ramble, sounding guilty of something. “I think I need another room.”

Without shame, he lets his eyes hover over my chest for an awkwardly long minute, before I finally cross my arms over my braless breasts. His eyes come up as a slow grin spreads across his lips.

“Sorry. Just wasn’t expecting you to be in the hall and looking like that. Especially not in front of Wren’s room. I was actually surprised to see you two come together, considering all he did to you.”

I’m not sure what that means. Everyone knows Wren and I have been trying to build a bridge over the pit of our past. And I really don’t like the drunken, leering look in Billy’s eyes right now.

“Wren and I are friends. We have a daughter, after all. It makes sense to be friends.”

I spin around, knocking on the door this time, but no answer comes.

“He’s dead to the world, most likely. If you need another room, I’ll find you one.”

Billy isn’t a threat at all. Just because he’s bitter doesn’t mean he’d ever do anything that would make me slap him, but I still don’t even want to talk to him. After what I saw at the party, I’ve quite possibly decided I never want him around me.

“That’s fine. I’ll just keep trying.”

I knock again, but there’s still no answer.

Billy laughs softly from behind me. “I get it. You don’t like talking to me. Wren has that effect on people. Everyone thinks they see this great guy. But one day you’ll see he’s really the guy who screwed you over that night, and you’ll need a friend that understands.”

I turn as he offers me what he probably thinks is a charming smile, but I’d like to just slap him. I never had siblings, but I’d like to think we wouldn’t hate each other.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, biting back the words I’d really like to say right now.

“I hope you do. Wren is really good about playing innocent even when he’s the devil in charge.”

He continues to grin, and I twist the doorknob to Wren’s room, deciding I’d rather not continue being in the hallway with Billy Prize. I’ll end up telling him what I think, and I have to remember he’s family to Wren and Melanie. Fortunately, it’s not locked, and I shut the door behind me without a backward glance toward Billy.

To my surprise, the light is on, brightly illuminating the enormous room with the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. Large windows are all around the room, and there’s a balcony across from me—way across from me.

Hell, I thought the room I had was big.

“Allie?” Wren’s voice snaps me out of my trance, and I turn my head toward the bathroom where Wren is walking out… in a towel.

My eyes take in his broad shoulders, and I follow the trail of the water that is dripping down the hard lines of his chest and ungodly set of abs. How is it possible for one person to look so good?

I almost whimper when I see the sexy, pronounced V of his lower abdomen until it disappears behind the low-hanging towel that is tied around his hips.

Sex on legs—that’s Wren Prize.

It takes a second to remember I’m drooling, gawking, and losing all dignity. I finally snap my eyes up to see his wet hair that looks blacker with the water in it, and my eyes take their time finding his blue ones that look all too amused.

“Enjoying the sight?” he asks, sounding even cockier than usual as he lifts an eyebrow.

I swallow hard around the instant knot in my throat. This static between us feels supercharged right now, and my entire body is tingling in response to his heated gaze as he shamelessly rakes his eyes down my body. He bites his lower lip as he studies me, and with slow, predatory prowess, he stalks toward me.

“Because I’m sure as hell enjoying what I see,” he says softly, a growl in his voice.

Breathe, Allie. Before you pass out.

My eyes fall down his chest once again, gliding down the toned, tanned skin of a body that deserves to be worshipped. I always hated myself for being so weak and hormonal seven years ago.

I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman, and I’m a frigging puddle. No way did my eighteen-year-old self stand a chance if I’m falling apart right now.

Strong hands grip the smooth material of the gown against my waist, and my head slowly falls back as Wren’s grin forms. His eyes look a little glassy up close, but they don’t usually.

Shit. I still haven’t spoken.

“I guess you missed me,” he says, leaning down and surprising me when he picks me up by my waist, carrying me to the bed.

My breath catches in my throat, and my hands go to his shoulders. A thousand warnings go off in my brain that something isn’t right, but every protest in me dies on my tongue when he lowers me to the bed and slides over me, pushing against me with nothing on but his towel.

A whimper is the only sound I make when his lips attach themselves to mine, and my fingers go to his damp hair, pulling him closer when his talented tongue sweeps in. Fingers run up my legs as he slides my gown up, and I don’t bother fighting him off. I don’t want to.

Every part of me is burning for more, and his hungry kiss kills my resolve to try and think rationally. Fabric tearing resonates in my ears after my gown is pushed up past my hips, and it takes a second to realize he just tore my lace panties away.

A growl comes from his throat as the towel around his waist is ripped away, and I suck in a sharp breath when I feel the heat from his bare skin between my legs. When something very hard nudges against my inner thigh, I whimper again.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he says against my lips before he starts kissing down my neck, assaulting more of my nerves and stripping me of the right to think.

Still unable to utter a single word, my head falls to the side as I drink in the feel of his body on mine, and my eyes close to relish each touch. The second his tongue slides against the swells of my breasts, my eyes pop open and I arch into him.

But then I see something that douses me in ice cold water. There’s a bottle of whiskey on the nightstand, and it’s almost gone. Three glasses are next to it, all of them looking recently used, and I frown, going numb against his lips and tongue that are still thoroughly exploring the tops of my breasts.

When he starts pushing my gown up higher, that’s when it all sinks in, and the passion dies, turning to ashes as reality steals the lust. The glassy eyes, the unusual aggression… It’s just like Cancun all over again. Wren is drunk. Damn it!

“Stop,” I whisper, cursing inwardly at how weak my demand is.

He doesn’t stop, possibly because he couldn’t hear the barely audible word that I managed to get out.

His lips and tongue find my side, and I contemplate saying to hell with it as he kisses a trail back up to my breasts, getting closer and closer to baring my body to him.

“Stop,” I say louder, this time weakly pushing against his shoulders.

He rises, looking confused, and my eyes dart down to his mouth. Groaning, I push harder, and he rolls off me, revealing his sexy as hell naked body. Torture. Pure and utter torture.

His very impressive erection is still jutting out, tempting me to just straddle him and take what I want. But Angel crosses my thoughts. I don’t have the option of being reckless. This is her father.

Then the sting of the rejection I felt seven years ago wanders close to the surface. Wren is a dick when he’s drunk.

“I did something wrong?” he asks, still seeming confused and completely lacking modesty as he gives me the full, ungodly perfect view of his bare body.

“You’re drunk,” I grumble, standing up and moving toward the door. I don’t say anything else as I walk out.

I guess I’ll sleep in the room between the porno. It’s better than losing another piece of myself to Wren Prize when he’s too drunk to even give a damn. Apparently it takes a lot of alcohol for him to lose control of himself. I wish I was enough to make him do that.

It’s just one more reason Wren and I have to be friends and nothing else. I want a guy who can’t stay away when he’s sober—not just want me when he’s drunk. At least I can take solace in the fact that he won’t remember this tomorrow.

Chapter 21

WREN

I hate Corbin. I hate Maverick. I hate my fucking headache.

Glaring at the bottle beside my bed, I decide I also hate whiskey. As I slowly shift up, I start massaging my temples, trying to dull the ache.

My bed is still made, since I passed out naked on top of the covers. Shit. I’m glad no one has walked in.

My blood goes cold in my veins as fuzzy memories assault me, and my head snaps up so quickly that it feels like a bowling ball rushes forward and slams into my forehead.

Cursing I grip my head, and then I look around. Allie. Maybe it was a dream. She’s not here.

Glancing down at my painfully hard cock, I decide there’s no way I’ve had sex. At least there’s no proof of it.

Stop.
Her voice echoes in my mind.
Stop
.

Oh shit. The color drains from my face as more memories surface. She made me stop. Shit. I was so drunk that I mauled her and tossed her down on my bed. But why else would she show up so late and let herself into my room?

No. No. It was just a dream. The muddled images are just incoherent parts of the dream masquerading as memories.

I stand, still feeling the painful erection that I swear hurts worse than anything I’ve felt in a while.

It takes me a second to grab some clothes from my drawers, and I mentally make a note to restock my stuff here. My supply is getting outdated.

As I start pulling on my boxers, I turn my head around, scanning the room. When my eyes land on a pair of shredded laced panties beside the bed, I lose my footing, and bust my ass with only one leg inside the boxers. I curse as a shot of pain shoots up my spine. But the thoughts of physical pain flee to make room for the real horror.

It was real.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How in the hell am I going to fix this?

With jerky movements, I finish tugging on my boxers, and then I stand to quickly dress. After I’m finished, I grab my phone and walk out the door, running a hand through my hair as I head toward Allie’s room.

It takes a while, but I finally reach her door, and push through it to find the bed has been made and it looks untouched. Shit.

Is she already gone? Would she have called a taxi? Will she be so pissed that she takes Angel away from me?

I practically sprint back toward the stairs, and I run toward the kitchen where my keys are. But I stumble to a halt in the dining room when I see everyone at the table. Mom is sipping her coffee and talking to Allie, while others are eating breakfast and laughing. The only people missing are Ethan, Rye, Brin, and thankfully Billy.
Hmm
. No Maverick either.

Allie is here. She has on jeans and a shirt with sleeves that go to her elbows. I suppose Mom sent someone to pick her up some clothes. I’m so damn glad she’s not in that silky gown I felt her wearing last night.

Wrong frame of mind, Wren. Don’t think of that.

“Wren!” Angel says, smiling up from her plate.

Carrie is beside her, but she doesn’t look up as she continues devouring her eggs.

Allie’s eyes snap toward me, but she quickly looks away as blush rises to her cheeks. Or maybe she’s turning red with fury. What a mess.

“Hey, princess,” I say to Angel, forcing my feet to move.

“Mommy is letting me stay a while so that I can hang out with Carrie. We’re going to watch movies in our pajamas, then I’m coming home.”

Carrie finally beams up from her plate, flashing a toothy smile that matches Angel’s.

“And I get to go to Asben!”

“Aspen,” Allie corrects, smiling over at our daughter.

Angel nods, then looks back at me. I’m a little caught off guard.

“Oh?” I ask, my voice hoarse.

Allie doesn’t bother glancing in my direction, but Mom fills me in.

“Allie has to work the first week Angel is out of school for Christmas break. She’s letting us take Angel with us. Then I’ve talked her into joining us the second week. Bella, too.”

My heart stumbles. A week in Aspen with Allie? After the colossal cluster fuck I’ve created?

“That’s great,” I rasp. Then I clear my throat. “I hadn’t planned on her going, so I scheduled a few meetings I have to go to. I’ll be a few days late getting there,” I finally manage to say.

Allie continues staring at her cup of coffee like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Is she staying here with Angel and Carrie? Or is she riding back with me?

We’d be alone. I can already hear the deafening silence.

My phone chirps, and I gratefully use it for my distraction. Glancing down, I see Rye’s number, and I answer it.

“What’s up—”

“I need you to come get me!” Rye barks, interrupting me. The hell?

“Okay… Where are—”

“In front of the Sterling pier. You won’t be able to miss me. Get the hell here now! Ethan isn’t answering. And don’t bring your daughter. But do bring me some fucking pants.”

“Rye, what the hell—”

“Now, Wren! And hurry.”

He hangs up on me, and I stare at my phone for a beat, still confused.

“I have to go. Rye needs help. Allie?” I prompt, looking over at her.

Her entire body tenses, but Tria answers before Allie can.

“She’s riding back with me. Kode left with Ethan to take him to the airport. He has to be back in Chicago, so Kode drove him in his car. I’m taking Ethan’s car back. I thought Allie and I could hang out for a while and get to know each other.”

I hadn’t even noticed Kode missing.

Allie still doesn’t bother looking up, so I don’t push the matter. Mom gives me a curious look coupled with a disapproving frown. Somehow she knows I’ve fucked up.

Angel gets up and runs around the table, diving straight in to my arms when I bend and reach for her. She giggles when I pick her up, and I kiss her on the head when she hugs my neck.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Allie doesn’t offer me another glance as I put Angel down and turn to leave.

***

WREN

I pull up to the curb next to the pier, and I swear my eyes try to fall out of their sockets. I’m torn between laughing so hard it hurts and allowing my face to distort in fascinated horror.

An amused policeman stands next to a bench, barely able to keep from laughing. Rye looks like he could kill ten people with just his murderous look.

He stands from the bench, says something to the cop, and then he walks toward me. I’m still reeling from the sight in front of me as everyone walking by bursts out in laughter when they check him out.

Rye is blue from head to toe—I’ll never look at Hefty Smurf the same. At least Hefty wore red pants. This fucker is naked. The only thing he has to shield his crotch is a cowboy hat, and he’s holding it there very firmly.

For some reason, pink fuzzy handcuffs are dangling from both wrists. I’m not sure what’s up with that. It looks like the chain that once connected them has been broken. He jerks my passenger door open, climbs in, and ignores the whistles and catcalls that emerge from all around.

“About fucking time you got here. Where’re the pants I told you to bring?” he growls.

I grimace, but then I can’t help it; my laughter pours out before I can stop it. He glares at me like he wants me dead.

“Sorry,” I say, not meaning it one bit. This has to be the funniest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. “I forgot the pants.”

He groans while leaning his head back, and I laugh harder while putting the car in gear and pulling away from the curb.

“What the hell happened?” I ask him, still laughing.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he growls.

My side is aching, but I can’t stop laughing. Every time he curses me, I only laugh harder. Brin is the smallest girl I’ve ever met, but I swear she’s the toughest. How did she pull this off?

“She had to have had help,” he snarls, and I wonder if I’ve asked my question aloud. “There’s no way she carried me to the beach herself. The flimsy chain on the cheap handcuffs fortunately broke, but I need a key to get them off my damn wrists. I woke up when that cop was shoving the blunt end of his baton against my chest—don’t you dare say anything dirty.”

His threatening glowers doesn’t stop my laughter. I was two seconds away with a dirty retort to go with the
blunt end of his baton.

“Anyway,” he continues, his mouth still twisted in an angry scowl, “she left me with my phone.”

I can’t help but laugh harder. “She left you there naked? I can’t believe someone didn’t steal your phone.”

“It was under the hat.”

Again my laughter roars free, and I subtly start using the pad on my steering wheel to locate a song to go with the moment.

“That cop said I’d only been out there for a couple of hours—like that’s no big fucking deal. He said he saw Maverick Sterling hanging out close by, like he was making sure no one messed with me. Since it was Maverick, the fucker didn’t do anything. Damn Sterlings get away with murder. The cop said Maverick told him to wake me up, and he crept off once I did. So I know he helped her, but he couldn’t have been the only one. Did you help her?”

He snarls as he turns toward me again, but I shake my head. I finally see the song I want, and I hit
play.
I crank up the volume on the stereo, letting the sound blare through the speakers at the perfect moment. It’s on old Eiffel 65 song, but I’m glad I’ve got it on hand.

Yo listen up
Here is the story about a little guy that lives in a blue world
And all day and all night
And everything he sees is just blue like him
Inside and outside
Blue his house with a blue little window and a blue Corvette
And everything is blue for him and himself
And everybody around
Cause he ain’t got nobody to listen...
I’m blue…
DA BA DEE DA BA DI… DA BA DEE DA BA DI…

Rye groans as I start singing along, antagonizing the hell out of him.

“Fuck you,” he growls, eliciting more laughter from me, but even he can’t stifle his own grin. When he laughs a little, I fucking lose it, finding it hard to breathe and sing at the same time.

It hurts. Damn, it hurts so bad. I feel like I’ve done a thousand crunches after laughing so much and so hard.

“How the hell did you forget to bring pants?”

“Sorry. I had some shit going on, and it distracted me.”

He curses while adjusting the cowboy hat.

“Whoa, big boy. I don’t want a peek at that… Is it blue, too?”

He grimaces, but then his scowl returns. “Yes. It had better have been Brin that made it blue, too. And this shit better not be toxic. I think it’s just body paint. She went too far this time. Payback is going to be hell.”

I almost feel sorry for Brin. Almost. One look at Rye has me laughing again, and he shifts the hat in his lap as he leans up to peer through the window.

As we near his subdivision, Rye tenses, his eyes narrowing like he’s already plotting.

“What’re you thinking?” I ask him. I can’t help but be curious.

“Probably something I’ll need help with. So you better be game.”

I snicker while pulling up to the curb, but the gentle laughter turns into a thundering roar when I see his front yard. Rye growls when his eyes land on the same thing.

There are lassos everywhere and there are stick ponies sticking up from the ground. Son of a bitch. He’s going to kill her.

“I’m going to kill her,” he growls, echoing my thoughts.

He stalks out of the car, giving his neighborhood a blue show.
Blue Moon
comes to mind.

Brin opens the door, wearing chaps over blue-jean shorts and a tied up flannel shirt. What has me bursting out laughing is the music pouring out of the house as loud as she could probably get it to go.

“You can leave your hat on… You can leave your hat on…”

Rye breaks into a sprint, still holding the cowboy hat firmly over his… blue balls—never thought it would be
that
literal. Brin squeals while dodging him and laughing as he rushes into the house.

I just shake my head as I pull away from the curb. Maggie—Brin’s best friend—waves with a huge smile on her face, sitting on her porch across from Rye and Brin’s home, and I wave back.

My window lowers, and she laughs while saying, “Even blue, his ass is nice.”

My laughter has just stopped, but it starts up again as I talk to her for a few minutes about our unruly and weird friends. But I finally decide to head off, leaving her to keep Rye from committing murder on her own.

My distraction is over, and now my own drama is back. What do I do to fix the dam I broke with Allie?