Cocky F@#ker (Tangled Desires #3) (18 page)

“You like him, don’t you?” He’d scraped my hair back from my face in a friendly sort of manner. “My brother?”

“I don’t know,” I’d murmured. “Maybe. I think so. But he doesn’t like me like that.”

“I have an idea of how we can find out.” He’d smiled.

Maybe it had been sheer hope that the oldest Hadley knew the answers, or that I could put these stupid feelings for Mace aside if I knew, but I nodded. “Okay.”

He’d cradled my cheek in his hand, tugged me closer and brought his lips to my ear. “Now, all you have to do is follow my lead.”

And I had, even when he’d kissed me. Even when he’d called me his girlfriend, but by then I was pretty sure I knew the answers when it came to Mace, and Rush adored me. Still does in his own way. But I’d never been in love with him. I think he knew that even while we were together. He was a wall between me and Mace, keeping me safe. One I’d needed to keep my fragile heart from hurting any more than it already did. I couldn’t let myself develop deeper feelings and watch them get stomped into the dirt.

But this time it’s about me. About what I want—and that’s Mace. I’ll do just about whatever it takes, but I won’t play any more games. Even though I don’t know if he’ll ever believe me when it comes to Rush.

That’s why he had to come home. To explain to Mace about what really happened between us. Maybe then we can all let it go.

Apparently Rush didn’t get the memo though, because his mouth is almost on mine before I have a chance to react. I throw my palms up between us, shoving hard at his chest. He’s tall and lanky compared to the rest of them, but still strong enough that it only halts his momentum and doesn’t put the distance I’d like between us.

“Are you trying to get into a fight with your brother? Do you have a death wish?”

Mace

“I think he probably does.”

I’m fucking pissed. I mean it’s a seeing red, fists clenched under my arms, which I’ve crossed so I don’t throw a punch at my brother, or lose my shit kind of furious.

Rush has the nerve, the fucking gall to laugh as he unhands her. But at least he does take his hands off her. “Calm your farm, dickhead.”

“Really? You’re telling me to calm down when you’re being a total cuntmonkey?”

He raises one eyebrow at that and grins languidly. “I haven’t heard that one in a long time.”

“That’s because no one else lives up to the reputation like you do, brother.” I get in his face, but I’m still firmly in control. It’s been the longest ten days of my life, but I figured I could handle ten days after ten fucking years. There were things that had to be dealt with so I could give Chelsea my full attention when we told everyone about us. So that when she told me her secret I already know that she wouldn’t have to wonder or worry about how I felt about it.

But I’m not waiting any longer. And I’m sure as hell not going to stand idly by while my brother tries to put the moves on her, again.

“Stop it, both of you.” Chelsea gets between us, shoving me in the chest. But she doesn’t push me away exactly. She kind of holds on, so that we’re both moving back up the yard, me walking backwards while I glare at Rush.

“You know, I was just reminding Chelsea of how this little competition between you and I started,” Rush calls out. “I mean she was mine first. Surely, I could convince her she doesn’t need to settle for you.”

“Oh, fuck no.” I let out a low growl. “I’m not letting you get between us again.”

“He’s pushing your buttons.” Chelsea hisses through her teeth. “He doesn’t mean it. Let’s just go.”

“Do you ever think about that time I slept with your wife in Vegas? Do I get in your head when you’re taking her to bed?” He smirks.

I think there’d be some pretty damn epic self-satisfaction in punching that smirk right off his face. “Asshole.”

Chelsea gasps, her hands dropping from my chest. I glance down at her. Her eyes are huge, watery, and she shakes her head. “I—”

“I know,” I say, grasping her arms and shifting her aside. I only wish I hadn’t been so uncertain of her when he’d lied to me back then, because it should have been obvious it wasn’t the kind of thing she would do. “I get it. You were protecting yourself. Ending things in a way you thought would keep me out of your life.”

She nods, but doesn’t say anything as I let her go. “Now Rush and I are going to have a conversation.”

“Don’t hit him.” She blanches, and I know it’s for me. She’s worried I’ll lose it like I did with Razer. But I’m doing better now. Things in my head, in my chest are calmer. I don’t know if that’s all because of her, but mostly it is.

“I’ve got this.” I brush my thumb along her jaw. “Although I won’t promise not to give him a shiner for his next performance.”

“Well come on then, brother. What are you waiting for?” Rush bounces around, kissing the air with his fists.

He looks like a circus clown, and I think he knows it by the grin that splits his face. It’s hard to stay pissed at him when he’s like this. Especially now that it should be obvious Chelsea’s with me. Doesn’t mean I don’t plan on proving my point, though.

“You’ve gotten soft in your old age, Rush.” I march toward him. “Are you sure you don’t want to bow out gracefully? I mean, obviously, you don’t stand a chance with my girl.”

“Maybe.” He nods. “But I’m not convinced. Isn’t this usually the part where I come in and sweep her off her feet, and you go running away with your tail between your legs?”

To hell with it. Yeah, I want to smack him. A little tap to his face before I tell him exactly why that won’t happen. “Come here, old man, and say that shit to my face.”

“So you can hit me?” Both eyebrows go up together this time. “You may have gotten the brawn, but I’m clearly far more intelligent than you.”

“Just because you’re talented in deception doesn’t make you intelligent, dickweed.” I rush him. “Or you would have worked out by now when to drop a matter.”

Fuck, he’s quick. Sprinting across the lawn to the deck, his feet thud on the wood as he climbs the railing and swings himself up on the roof. Maybe he didn’t get the muscle the rest of us got, but he’s equally impressive. Except now I have to fucking get up there, too, because we haven’t even begun this conversation.

The noise of us thumping around on the tile roof must be loud because it draws an audience. In a matter of minutes, all our siblings are staring up at us.

“Don’t damage my roof,” Tommy yells at us.

“What about your brother’s face?” I yell back.

“Or that.”

Rush laughs. “Ignore them. Say what you need to say to me, brother.”

“Please come down,” Chelsea pleads, and I do consider it, because I would prefer to have my arms around her than strangle my own brother.

“In a minute, darlin’,” I call down to her, rubbing at my shoulder, before shifting my focus back to Rush, who still looks like he thinks this whole thing is a joke. “Okay, how about this for starters? I know you didn’t sleep with my wife.”

“What the actual fuck?” That’s Tommy’s voice drifting up to us. And when I shoot a glance over my shoulder, it’s to find him staring at Chelsea.

“Yeah, I married Chelsea four years back. You know, Vegas, alcohol, it was serendipitous. A real fucking fairy tale. Wasn’t it, love? Before the annulment.”

I don’t know how she responds, because she isn’t looking at me so I can’t see her face. But God, I’m going to need to make this up to her at some point, because I doubt this is how she expected our dirty secrets to get aired.

“I know she never slept with you. Not then, not before you left home when we were teenagers. She’s never loved you the way she loves me. But I was fucking stupid back then. I let you get in my head. I was jealous and filled with doubt. So I did what was easiest.”

I watch as she lifts her gaze to Rush and I on the roof, before settling on me.

“I don’t want easy anymore, and I don’t want secrets. And I know this isn’t how you hoped all this would come out, but let’s just rip the Band-Aid clean off, huh?”

She’s ashen, but she nods. In my periphery I catch Claire moving toward her. One member of my family ready to accept whatever the hell crazy I throw off this roof. Focusing back on Rush, I continue. “I love her, and I know she fucking loves me, and we’re having a kid, so it’s time for you to bow out gracefully.”

I’m kind of aware the minute I say the words that I didn’t actually mean to say them.
We’re having a kid.
It’s the first time it’s been acknowledged out loud, at least by me.

“Pee-stick Cindy was you?” I hear Claire say.

I no longer care about finishing this conversation with Rush. If he hasn’t gotten it yet, he probably never will, but that’s his problem not ours. So I drop off the side off the roof and climb down the railing, until I’m toe to toe with my girl. I cup her cheek. “So we’re having a kid. I guess I probably should have told you I knew about that.”

“I probably should have told you before now,” she murmurs. “But I didn’t know how to. I didn’t know if you’d want it, me, when I did.”

“I probably said something stupid.”

“You said it would be your biggest mistake.”

“I did.” I don’t pretend like I didn’t. There’s no point. She kept this from me because I didn’t think I could handle it. “But it isn’t.”

“So you love me?” she asks. “This isn’t all because we’re having a baby?”

“Seriously?” Rush swings his legs over the roof, then climbs along the deck until he lands behind us. “He finally grew some balls, Chels, and stepped up for you. Are you really going to ask whether he loves you now?”

But she can ask. Any time she wants, as often as she wants. The answer will always be the same. “You know I fucking do.”

***

“Do you remember when we were kids?” Rush asks. We’re standing on the platform to the jet. His bags are already loaded, a flight attendant with her gaze firmly planted on my brother’s ass is waiting for him to board.

“I remember we used to have fun.”

“Yeah,” he says. “You and Raze would run around like little psychopaths doling out death to action figures and Claire’s Barbie dolls. I was jealous of you. Did you know that?”

“What?” It’s probably the last thing I ever expected him to say. He’s internationally famous. He’s rich as fuck. Even before that he could draw a crowd, get any girl’s attention. Normal human beings couldn’t do what his charm and enigmatic personality could.

“You always seemed to have it all, including my girl.” I clap him on the shoulder, trying to soften that blow a little. That she’s mine, staying with me. I’m the lucky bastard this time, not him.

“You had two things I wanted, Mace, more than anything. More than fame and fortune, more than the crazy good lay I’m going to get when I board this plane in a minute.”

With a grin, he takes his aviators off, folds them and tucks them into the collar of his shirt. “You were the one our siblings idolized. They looked at you and knew you’d always be there to protect them even if you pretended to do it grudgingly, and you had a girl who was so far head over heels for you it was ridiculous you couldn’t see it. I wanted that, you know. So I took it, but it was never mine. She always wanted you.”

“Asshole,” I grumble, but the truth is I think I knew it and wasn’t ready. Sooner or later the girl was going to ruin me. She was going to rip through my life and turn me inside out with the way I felt for her. Only I didn’t know it would feel this good. “Is that why you sent me to tell her you left that night?”

He raises an eyebrow, chuckles. “It took you long enough to work it out, didn’t it? I mean I knew you were slow, but ten years, brother? I thought maybe a couple weeks until you and her forgot I had ever been there, but you fucked it up, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Because I didn’t give either of us time to come to grips with our feelings for each other. I swooped in, and then couldn’t hack it because I hadn’t dealt with my emotions toward my brother. “But I won’t this time.”

“You better not.” He stabs a finger at my chest, pulling himself up to his full height. “I do care for her in my own way, and I will come back and kick your ass whenever it’s needed. You know that, right?”

I pull him in for a bro hug, thump him on the back a couple times. It’s nice, not wanting to punch him in the face for a change, so I knuckle tap him in the arm. “You know you’re going to be back here sooner than you think.”

“Is that so?” He takes a couple steps. “Are you thinking of screwing up already?”

“No, but there’s Claire’s wedding. Tommy’s wedding. Your niece or nephew.”

“I may as well buy an apartment here. I guess you’re going to tell me there’s another wedding invitation I should be expecting.”

“Maybe.” I clear the platform. “Now get the hell out of here.”

Chelsea

When Mace leaves for the airport with Rush I tell him I’m going home. I know that he’ll show up as soon as he’s done, so I leave the door unlocked, drop my bag on the sofa and head upstairs.

I don’t know if any other day could have been as long and as crazy as this one. There have been a lot of questions to answer. First with Claire, and then with Tommy. I think they get why I never told them. It’s been awkward enough as it is, but there’s something to be said for having things out in the open. And no one made a joke about how Mace stole his brother’s girlfriend. So at least that was good.

Mace refused to let go of me. Like literally refused. Except for bathroom breaks. There wasn’t a minute from the moment he climbed off the roof until he drove Rush to the airport where he wasn’t touching me, holding me, kissing me. As though he’s making up for all the times he didn’t get to.

I didn’t mind. I needed it from him today. Almost as much as I needed him to tell me he loved me. I don’t recall hearing him ever use that word about anything before, except for maybe bacon and him acknowledging how I feel about him, so I know he means it.

I make a pit stop in my bedroom to gather up some clothes before I make my way to the bathroom. It’s weird to think we’re a couple now. That I’m some kind of girlfriend, or, or… I’m not really sure, because we’re technically still married.

I don’t know how I didn’t tell him that today. But I will. Tonight. When he gets here. I get the shower going and strip out of my clothes, tying my hair up in a bun on the top of my head before climbing under the water. I don’t want to wet my hair. I’m tired, ridiculously tired, and I don’t want to waste energy on things that don’t matter because I want to spend it on him.

He’s not the only one who has time they want to make up.

I push my face under the water, one hand pressed to the wall, letting the rhythm of the water pounding the tiles relax me. That’s probably why I don’t hear him enter the bathroom.

“I have a thing for bathrooms,” he says, climbing in with me. His hands scrape over my skin. “Or maybe it’s finding you in them.”