Fighting Me (7 page)

I know that I should go back in and hear her out, but I don’t. I have no desire to handle any of the business end of our lives at all right now. I don’t involve myself with that end of things and I have no want to. Whatever it is that is bothering Cam, she needs to stow that shit until we are back in Nashville. Right now, we are miles away from anything resembling responsibility and as long as the media stays the fuck away, that’s how it will be until we get on the boat in thirteen days to head back to reality.

***

Later that night, after we all have dinner together, everyone scatters. Daisy and Grayson go for a walk on the beach, leaving an already sleeping Brannon with Rae. Hunter and Chase take Jazzie for a swim with Luke and Kionna, while Aiden and Camaron decide to head to bed early.

After walking the beach for the fourth time, I head in, deciding that it’s time to wake up Mack from his after dinner snooze to start his night watch before I shower. Instead, screaming has me heading away from where Mack sleeps and towards the main house.

Running through the door, I prepare for a massacre, only to find Brannon wailing like he’s being beaten. “It’s okay, handsome. Oh, you poor baby,” Rae coos, bouncing him on her hip in one arm while sorting through the contents of his diaper bag with the other.

“What’s going on?” I ask, closing the distance.

“He woke up screaming about an hour ago,” Rae says, blowing out a frustrated breath. “I think it’s a stomach ache, but I can’t find his drops. I’ve looked everywhere. I just want to make it better for him.”

Reaching out, I run my hand along his abdomen, and she’s right, it’s hard as a brick. The look on her face tells me that she is hurting nearly as bad as he is because she can’t fix it for him. “I know just the thing.” I say, then head into the kitchen.

B
rannon screams
, his fingers digging into my skin as I walk the room, swaying and softly humming in an effort to calm him. But it doesn’t work. Nothing does. I’m frantic to help ease the pain I know he is in. To help him rest. Instead, I am resolved to curling us both on the couch and sobbing right along with him.

Henry emerges from the kitchen with a sippy cup in his hand, “Here, let me have him.” Towering over us, Henry reaches out his hands. I look up at him, skeptically, wondering how in the hell he can possibly handle this if everything I have tried in the last hour has failed miserably. Taking off his sunglasses, he tosses them to the coffee table and arches his eyebrow at me. “Oh, come on, Rae. This is a team effort here, not a competition.”

“Fine,” I reply, handing Brannon to him. Bran fists Henry’s shirt with both hands, his tears soaking his poor splotchy red face.

“Come on, little Henry, let’s drink some of this. It’ll make it all better,” Henry says, swaying as he walks around the table. He paces in front of the fireplace, holding Brannon tightly against his chest. Once Brannon finally takes the cup, he sips slowly, but quiets to only whimpering.

“What is that?” I ask curiously, thankful that it’s at least calmed him some to drink it.

“Warm lemon water with a couple peppermint leaves,” he replies. “Being on tour with these knotheads, I can throw together a home remedy anywhere there’s a stocked bar.” Henry alternates bouncing slowly and swaying as he paces back and forth, again and again.

Eventually all the tension leaves Bran’s body, his whimpers now snores as he sleeps soundly in Big Man’s arms. Henry sets the cup on the coffee table before sitting down and curling Bran on the cushion beside him so that he lies with his head on a big throw pillow, his knees drawn up into his chest. “All better,” Henry says, brushing the hair from the little boy’s face before meeting my eyes.

“You can cuddle,” I say, grinning at him.

Henry blushes as I stand to my feet, making my way over to them. “Don’t go broadcastin’ that shit, it was necessary to the task at hand,” he says, swallowing hard. My eyes go to his throat as it works, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Looking down at Brannon sleeping peacefully curled up against Henry, relief washes over me. I am overwhelmed with emotion. Between the traveling and all the chaotic drama of today with the paparazzi, I am a bit of a basket case.

"I could kiss you right now," I blurt, grabbing his face with both hands and slamming my lips to his.

Then, I do it again.

Electricity sparks between our fused mouths, making my toes curl into the area rug beneath my feet. Henry's hand reaches out, gripping my hip, his fingers digging into my skin through my shorts. The heat from his mouth on mine and his hand gripping me is like a fever spreading throughout my entire body. My heart is beating so fast I feel like the room is spinning.

Footsteps and laughter from outside the door cause me to break the kiss. I step back and Henry lets his hand fall away from me immediately. I turn around just as Daisy and Grayson walk through the door, his arm wrapped around her waist as he kisses her temple.

“Hey, was he giving you trouble?” Daisy asks, untangling herself from Gray and walking over to the couch. Brannon’s bottom lip quivers when she lifts him into her arms, making her eyes go soft.

“No, just a stomach ache,” Henry replies, stretching his long legs, then crossing one ankle over the other.

“Poor baby,” Daisy says, cuddling him to her chest. Her eyes meet mine and she smiles. “I’ll put him down tonight, I want to cuddle with my favorite boys.”

“All right, if you insist,” Hunter says from the doorway, carrying Jazzie in his arms. “I’m just not sure Gray is going to be very happy on the sofa.”

Chase slaps Hunter on the arm, rolling her eyes as she grins at him. “Come on, loverboy, let’s put our girl to bed.”

“If no one needs me, I’ll just head to bed myself then,” I say, my lips still tingling from kissing Henry.

“See you in the morning, Rae,” Daisy says when I pass her and head down the hallway.

Henry doesn’t say a word, but I can feel his eyes on me. Stepping into my room, I close the door and lean against it. Exhaling, I shake my hands out in front of me before touching my fingers to my lips. I close my eyes, still able to feel the lingering heat from his kiss. I can’t believe I did something like that. He must think I’m crazy for just kissing him like that out of the blue. Can’t say I’d disagree with him at this point, the only thing that could explain me acting so irrational is temporary insanity.

Then why didn’t push you away?

“Twatfacedasswhore,” I say, staring up at the ceiling before banging my head back against the wooden door, wincing when I whack the bump from earlier today. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

Deciding that it’s probably better to shower than add to my growing head injuries, I dig out some things from my bag and head into the bathroom. Turning the faucet, I walk over to the closet door and hang my towel on the hook before adjusting the water and stripping off my clothes.

Stepping into the shower, I let the hot water wash away the day and try to push Henry out of my mind. While washing my hair, I begin to plan some things to do with the kids in my head tomorrow around meals and naps so that I can keep them busy while everyone else gets last minute wedding details taken care of. Figuring that I’ll need help, I decide to ask Mack to go along with me and take Brannon and Jazzie to the other side of the island with a picnic lunch and explore a bit before the sun starts beating down too much for them.

Turning off the water, I reach out and grab the towel from the hook and wrap it around myself before stepping out onto the bathmat. Grabbing another towel from the shelf, I bend over, shaking my hair out before starting to dry the excess water from the strands.

Looking around, I realize that I must have left my clothes on the bed. Opening the door, I jump when I see Henry sitting in the chair by the window. His eyes lock on me instantly. His fingers curl around the arms of the chair—which is actually too small for his tall, muscular body—white knuckling as his grip tightens. He stares at me like he is about to pounce.

“Can I help you?” I ask on a forced breath, gripping the towel where I bunched it between my breasts to keep from giving him a peep show. “Last I checked, you don’t get to just invite yourself in without knocking, Bear.”

“Don’t fuckin’ do it again.” The minute his words leave his lips, my blood boils.

“Care to explain what I shouldn’t be doing again?” I ask, taking a step towards him, my near nakedness forgotten. “I’m afraid with your attitude, Henry, you’ll have to be more specific about what I’ve done to get your panties in a twist this time.”

His jaw ticks, his lip twitching. “Panties?” he asks, leaning up in the chair. “I don’t wear ‘panties’.” Standing to his feet, he takes a step toward me. “Why did you do that? You can’t just kiss me like that. Don’t do it again.”

“You came in my room, without knocking by the way, to tell me not to kiss you?” I ask, trying to keep my thoughts on the conversation and not the fact that he may or may not have admitted to going commando. The mere thought of that will send my head into a downward spiral that will only end in me mauling him like a caged animal right now. “I don’t know why.”

“Yes, you do,” he says flatly. Turning he heads for the door. “Don’t do it again.”

“Do me a favor, Henry?” Henry grips the doorknob, but doesn’t open the door or turn around. He simply stands frozen, silently waiting for me to continue. How dare him place all the blame on me, he wasn’t fighting me off. Hell, he kissed me back! “Go fuck yourself.”

Henry jerks around, his hand flying off the knob as he faces me. “What?” He growls low in his throat.

“You heard me,” I reply, grabbing my clothes off the bed. “I’ve had a hell of a day and I’m tired. So I’m sorry if I have once again wounded your fragile ego by not falling in line when you bark a command. I didn’t kiss you in hopes of getting you in my bed, it was a moment of weakness, and I’ll be sure it
never
happens again.” Turning my back, I head for the bathroom. “In case I wasn’t clear, that ‘go fuck yourself’ was Bitchenese for have a nice night.”

One minute I’m walking into the bathroom, the next minute I’m spun around and pinned against the sink. One of Henry’s big hands cups my jaw, the other grips my ass through my towel. “I never said I didn’t want it to happen again, Firecracker.” I tremble when he rocks his pelvis into me. Lifting me onto the sink, he steps between my spread legs. His lips are just inches from mine, I can feel his breath as he pants, his chest heaving. Those green eyes blaze as they stare into mine, burning with hunger that has my nipples hardening against the fabric of the towel and my stomach doing flips. “I want you, Rae. Have no doubt, I’d spend all night making you scream my name while I do things to that fuckin’ hot body of yours that you’ve never even dreamed of. You shouldn’t have kissed me. I didn’t want to know how fuckin’ sweet you taste, how you melt into me when I touch you. This would be a very bad idea.”

Releasing me, he steps back, turning toward the closed door that I’d hung my towel on earlier. Opening it, he reveals another bedroom, not a closet.

“That’s your room, isn’t it?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Stopping in the doorway, he turns and meets my eyes. “Keep yours locked,” he says, then he’s gone, and I’m left staring at the closed door trying to figure out what in the fuck just happened.

T
hree days later
, I’ve not seen much of Henry. He is once again keeping his distance, but I know he is watching. I can feel his eyes on me, but for a man that I share a bathroom with, and as one of the dozen people I share a small island with, the man has made himself scarce when I get too close. I should giggle at the thought of the seven-foot-tall man running from me, but I can’t stop replaying that night over and over in my head and wondering how differently things could have gone. I’ve spent most of my time with the kids—Mack being our very interactive shadow—while we build sand castles and explore the trails and other little spots on the island. Jazzie has a jar full of shells that Mack carries for her just in case we happen to find another one. I work with Brannon on getting him to speak, but other than a few grunts, I don’t get much. I’m determined to get him to talk to me. I want to hear him babble to me about his trucks and all the thoughts I see him working over in his head.

“Again!” Jazzie squeals, holding up the small Boogie Board and running for Mack while I lie on a blanket under an umbrella with a napping Brannon.

“One last time, Jazz,” Mack says, lifting her into the air. “It’s almost dinner time and Big Man will cluck like a mother hen if we’re late again.”

“Mack’s right,” I shout, looking at my watch. “I guarantee everyone else is already inside.”

Standing up, I wiggle back into my jean shorts, zipping and buttoning them before slipping my feet into my sandals. I pack up our bag, turning just in time to see Mack let go of the board and Jazzie scoot forward on the water, riding the small wave into the beach.

“Watch me, Miss Rae!” The excitement in her voice makes me giggle. The board skids to a stop on the sand. Jumping to her feet, Jazz starts wiping at the sand on her legs with her hands. “Ew, it makes me all scratchy.”

“That’s nothin’,” Mack says, walking up the beach and grabbing his towel. “This one time, I got crabs from this chick at a bar down in Tijuana. Holy shit, I damn near scratched down to the fuckin’ bone.”

“Mack!” I shout, smacking his arm. “Child appropriate,” I say, reminding him, yet again, that his words are going to carry through the little ones.

“Those?” Jasmine asks, pointing to a tiny crab scurrying across the beach toward the water.

“No,” Mack winces, taking a step back and pulling Jazz with him. “Hell no. Those little bastards are even more terrifying.”

“Oh please, Mack.” Grabbing up the bag when he reaches down and picks up Brannon, I shake my head. “They’re harmless.”

“Mhm,” he says, arching a bushy red eyebrow at me. “Sure they are…”

Taking Jasmine’s hand, I lead the way up to the house. The guys are all on the back deck joking around while Chase’s brother, Luke, tends to the ribs and steaks cooking on the grill. Henry’s eyes lock on me; I can feel them, even though I can’t see them. Of course, he’s hiding behind those damn shades again.

“There you are,” Luke says, turning and swooping up Jazz in his arms before laying kisses on both her cheeks with loud smacks. “Saw you boardin’ earlier, you looked awesome.”

“It’s so fun,” Jazzie says, her whole face lighting up. Cupping Luke’s face with both her tiny hands, she presses her nose to his. “Can you take me out after dinner, please please, oh puhleeeeeease!”

Luke nods slowly. “If Mom and Dad say it’s okay, but I’m gonna need some love.”

Jazz squeals, wrapping her arms around his neck, she covers his face in kisses. “Uncle Luke, you’re the bestest.”

“Better get inside and wash up, dinner is about ready,” Hunter says when Luke lowers her back to her feet. Without another word, Jazz runs into the house, shouting for Chase. Hunter smiles, then his eyes meet mine. “Kids duty is on us tonight. Since the bachelor and bachelorette parties are tomorrow night, we’re givin’ you the night off to do whatever you want. You’ve definitely got a break coming.”

“Okay,” I reply, a bit unsure on how I will possibly fill my time since I planned on the bulk of it being spent handling the kiddos. I don’t exactly leave myself with free time, and now it seems, I’ll have an entire night of it. “I’ll be around if you change your mind.”

“Sure thing,” Hunter says, holding out a glass tray for Luke while he loads it down with meat.

“Hmmm,” Mack says, bouncing Brannon in his arms. “What will I do with a night off?”

“As opposed to what?” Henry asks, his lips twisting in amusement. “You’ve been playin’ on the beach with the kid all day. Seriously, you’ve got a hard life.” Lifting his beer to his lips, Henry sips, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple drawing my eyes to it like a red flag at a bull.