Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men Book 9) (20 page)

“I wasn’t a virgin, you dick. And that was yesterday. How...?” I shook my head, completely flabbergasted over how he’d been able to figure out so much from just looking at me.

His brow quirked again with another bout of shock. “No shit? All this is from way back to yesterday, huh?” He circled his hand around my face. “And it wasn’t even your first time? Fuck, she must be the one.”

I blinked. “The what?”

“The
one
,” he repeated, stressing the word this time as if that explained everything. When I only shook my head, clueless, he sighed and rolled his eyes. “You know, the one. The fucking
one
. Like Caroline is my one. Shakespeare is Gam’s one. Hot Wheels is Butthead’s one.”

I stared at him a moment before bursting out with, “You’re out of your fucking mind.” While inside, something jumped, something a little panicked but also a little excited.

“And you’re fucking sweating, kid, because you know I’m right.”

“Whatever. You can’t tell that kind of shit after
one
round of sex.” Okay, technically two rounds...or about six if you wanted to count how many orgasms I’d given her. Because, holy shit, those totally counted in my book.

Ten snorted. “The fuck you can’t tell. Haven’t you heard those songs about it being in his kiss? That’s how you can tell if you love him, or whatever. Well, that’s the chick’s version. The dude’s version would be more like,
it’s in her pussy
.
That’s
how you tell.”

“You’re fucking whack,” I told him with all seriousness. “I can’t believe someone actually let you have a kid.” Okay, I wasn’t so serious about that—he was a decent dad—but everything he was saying about sex...totally whack.

It had to be.

Ten only shrugged with a look that told me to go ahead and believe what I wanted; he was still right. “I’m just telling you, you can tell.” Caroline walked into the room and his gaze immediately found her. “Yeah, you can definitely fucking tell,” he murmured appreciatively. “You’re just too chicken shit to admit it to yourself.”

“So...?” Caroline grinned, rubbing her hands together as she approached us. She had two bags—a camera bag and laptop satchel—looped over her shoulder. “Did you get it all out of your system yet?” she asked her husband.

He shook his head, staring at her. “I’ll never get you out of my system.”

Her face bloomed with pleasure, her cheeks brightening with a healthy glow as she grinned. Then she shook her head and laughed. “I meant did you get your incessant need to cuss out of your system, you crazy man.”

“Oh.” He winked at her. “Yeah, that neither.”

He kissed her again, and I groaned.

“God, you guys really make me puke in my mouth sometimes, you know that?”

Caroline laughed and finally turned her attention to me. “You’ll understand someday, bubba.” Then she leaned up to kiss my cheek only to pause and blink as she studied my face. “You look different today, like you’re extra happy or content, or I don’t know. But it’s like you’re glowing or something.”

When Ten burst out laughing, I glared and flipped him off. “Shut it, fucker.”

Caroline glanced between us, clearly confused. “What did I miss?”

Ten leaned in to kiss the side of her neck. “Just boy talk, baby.”

“That means sex stuff.” She immediately shifted away from me and wrinkled her nose. “Eww, I don’t want to hear anymore, especially if it has to do with my baby brother.”

“It does,” I said, immediately shutting down her curiosity because if she thought I was serious about some girl, she’d spread the rumor through the family in a heartbeat, and it’d reach Brandt within the hour. “On another note, I have a cooking Vine idea,” I added, and bam, she was successfully diverted.

Eyes lighting with excitement, she cheered, “Yay. I love the kitchen skits. What’s your idea?”

“Well…”

We worked on making a six-second video in the kitchen. It took us four tries to get the first scene right; Caroline was a stickler for good lighting. Any glare or shadow bugged the crap out of her. But about ten minutes later, she was finally satisfied with the two-second clip where she handed me a casserole dish and told me, “Keep this warm in the oven at 120 degrees.”

In the second part, I knelt down in front of the opened door of the oven with the casserole and used a protractor trying to angle it a literal 120 degrees. At first we tried to find physical things to prop it up, but in the end, we decided it’d be funnier if we edited it to make it look as if the casserole was floating at that angle.

“Perfect.” Caroline grinned as she played back the final cut on the screen of her laptop. We watched it a few rounds before she asked, “Any luck on the tree and chainsaw?”

“Hmm? No, not yet.” I pointed toward the screen. “I like that one. Post it.”

“Done,” she singsonged after a few clicks of the keypad. “What next?”

“Get off my back.”

“Well, geez.” She widened her eyes and sent me a look that called me prickly. “I just thought you’d have another idea.”

“No, I meant ‘get off my back’
is
my next idea.”

She blinked at me a moment before it sunk in. Then she snorted out a laugh. “Oh…I get it. I’ll tell you something, and you’ll say
hey, get off my back
, and then we’ll pan out to show that I’m literally riding on your back. Awesome. Let’s do it.”

M
ost of the day continued that way. We paused for lunch and took a few minutes to check in on Ten and the kids.

I held the camera and pressed record just as Caroline asked how everything was going. Beau and Teagan totally ignored us, but Ten scowled at the camera and flipped us off.

That was his signature Vine move. All our followers loved him. The only thing he ever did was flip the camera off, and I swear our fans went wild every time. It was crazy, but we liked to make them happy too, so we threw in a “Ten bird” pretty frequently. One time, he kissed his middle finger and then blew it at the camera, and some crazed chick fan loved it so much she mailed us her underwear to give him.

Caroline had not been amused, even though Ten and I hadn’t been able to stop laughing.

By the time evening wore down to night and both Caroline’s and my brain felt fried and drained of all humorous video ideas, we decided to call it a day.

We checked in on Beau and Teagan to find that both kids were passed out asleep together on top of the blankets and pillows piled on the floor in front of the television. Caroline went to her daughter, stepping over the legs of her husband, who was passed out in the easy chair and scooped Teagan into her arms.

“You guys can hang out as long as you need to,” she whispered to me as she passed.

I nodded and tugged my phone from my pocket.

I asked Noel and pressed
send
.

If everyone was asleep at home or even awake but in good spirits, he would tell me it was okay to proceed home. If there were any problems, he’d give me a time I should delay before venturing back.

But tonight, the only reply I received was:

I stared at the word, not sure what to make of it. I started to ask what was wrong, but I was kind of afraid of the answer.

My fingers were still twitching to type and my eyes were glued to that one word when Caroline reentered the room empty-armed.

“What’s wrong?” she immediately asked, taking in my face.

I showed her the screen of my phone. She sucked in a breath and gripped my arm. “Get over there. Now. Beau can stay here tonight.”

I nodded and slapped a kiss to her cheek before dashing toward the door.

My hands were still shaking when I pulled into my driveway fifteen minutes later. All the lights in the house were blaring brightly from every window, so everyone must still be awake.

Not sure if Aspen or Lucy O was the problem tonight, I parked and killed the engine before jogging to the back door and pulling it open.

The first thing I heard was yelling—Aspen’s yelling—then from the other direction of the house came Lucy Olivia’s wailing.

“I can’t take this anymore. I just can’t take it!” Aspen screamed.

“Well, what the fuck do you want me to do?” Noel boomed back, just as loud, which startled the shit out of me.

Since Aspen’s postnatal depression had begun and she’d started having screaming episodes, Noel had become the soul of patience. Before, he’d been the first to lose his temper and raise his voice. But when his wife had gotten sick, nothing. He’d remained even-tempered and calm, only worried about soothing her.

Until tonight.

“
What
?” he was shouting with a rasp in his voice as if he might’ve been shouting for a while. “I’ve been working my ass off to do right by you, and it all seems to be fucking wrong. So what am I supposed to do, huh? You tell me.”

After rushing to their room, I skidded through the doorway before Aspen could yell some answer that would probably do no one any good. “No,” I said, lifting both hands and spreading them between the couple where they stood on opposite sides of the room from each other, facing off. “No more. You.” I pointed at Noel. “Take a walk. Right now.”

He glared and even took a step toward me. He looked so hopped up on anger I was sure he would’ve hit me just to release some of the testosterone rushing through him. But very sternly and very succinctly, I ordered, “Go cool off.”

Stopping in his tracks, he took another moment to inhale, and then he nodded and strode from the bedroom.

Aspen immediately burst into tears and collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in her hands. Lucy O continued to scream from down the hall in her nursery, but I walked to my sister-in-law and sat by her, placing my palm on the back of her head.

“I love you,” I said. “We
all
love you.” I hoped I stressed that enough so she’d understand I meant Noel loved her too. “No matter what.”

A shudder wracked her frame when she sobbed.

I wanted to say more. We were all freaked out about how bad some of her episodes would go. Could she actually become suicidal? The very thought made my stomach lurch with fear. But the baby kept crying. Making her quiet would
have
to help alleviate some of the tension around here. So I kissed Aspen’s hair and said, “I’m going to go check on Lucy O.”