Unexpected Fall (Unexpected Arrivals Book 3) Page 9

  “Tell him to keep to his side of the couch.” Mark nods to where Seth sits on the opposite side of Kent. Seth and Kent dissolve into laughter, and Mark tightens his hold on me.

  This possessive side to him has been happening more since the night I lost my parents. At times I think it’s because he feels bad for me that I have no one but him, and our friends, until times like now, when his hand rests on my thigh and the other slips under the hem of my shirt and rubs my back. Only he and I know that’s what he’s doing. It’s just for us, not for show. I’ve dissected his intentions a million times, but what it comes down to, is I refuse to ask. I can’t handle it right now. Good or bad, I think it might break me. So instead, I pretend that this new affection he shows me in front of the group is not new, and it’s how we’ve always been with each other.

  I pretend that I have my shit together, and I know the exact path my life is taking me.

  Fake it until you make it.

  “Your place or mine?” Mark asks a few hours later.

  I glance over at him where he sits behind the wheel of his truck, waiting for me to tell him which direction he needs to go. “I-I don’t want to be alone.” After all day with our friends and their kids, going home alone sounds like the worst kind of torture.

  “Let me rephrase my question. Are we,” he places emphasis on we, “going to your place or mine?”

  I smile at him. “Yours.”

  “You got what you need for work tomorrow at my place?”

  “Yes.” At his insistence, I keep clothes and toiletries at his place. It does come in handy on the nights I don’t want to go home alone. I’m spending more and more time at his place. I don’t hate it.

  He nods and turns right out of Tyler and Reagan’s driveway. “Those little buggers are exhausting,” he comments, settling his arm beside mine where it rests on the center console of his truck. He loops his pinky through mine.

  “They definitely have a lot of energy,” I agree. “However, they all did have cake.”

  “This is true. That’s the best part about being Uncle Mark. I get to spoil them, sneak them extra cupcakes, and then leave them with their parents to fight off the sugar high.”

  “You’re terrible.” I laugh.

  “Hey, it’s part of the Uncle’s Code of Ethics.”

  “Who wrote this particular Code of Ethics?” I ask. “Seth?”

  “It was a group effort, and it’s not so much as written as assumed. However, Ty was in on it when we started it. Knox was the only little one at the time, so my guess is that Ty would like to amend it.” He chuckles. “Sucks for him. There are still three remaining childless uncles. Majority rules.”

  I just shake my head and smile. These guys and their antics never cease to amaze me. “I bet Kendall and Reagan can veto.”

  “The Uncle’s Code of Ethics is sacred. No moms allowed.”

  “So you’re telling me I’m privy to private man-child inside information?”

  “Man-child?” he scoffs, making me throw my head back and laugh.

  “Just calling it like I see it,” I volley. He mutters something under his breath about no respect for the uncle, and I don’t need to look in the mirror to know that I’m grinning like a fool.

  “I think I’m going to take a shower,” I tell him once we’re in the house. “I feel sticky.” I hold my arms out as if you can see the sticky.

  “Okay, babe,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

  I disappear into his bedroom, strip out of my clothes, toss them in the dirty laundry basket, and head to the bathroom. I’m standing outside of his walk-in shower waiting for the water to heat. This shower is one of my favorite parts of this house. It’s huge, no door, no curtain, just lots of tile, and multiple showerheads. There’s a bench in the corner that I use when I shave my legs. It’s no wonder I spend more time here than my place. The company is number one, but this shower is a close second.

  “Hey.” His deep timbre greets me as his hands rest on my bare hips. “You good? You look pretty deep in your thoughts.” He’s been so cautious with me the last few months. I’ve pulled from his strength more than I care to admit.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking about this shower. It so makes staying over worth it.”

  He moves closer and his naked body aligns with mine. “Is that all?” He bends to kiss my neck.

  “You’ve seen this shower, right?” I goad.

  His answer is to press his hard cock into me. “You’ve seen my cock, right?” he counters.

  I was trying to be funny, but the heat in his voice has me rubbing my thighs together. I turn in his arms, resting my palms against his chest, his thick length straining between us. I make sure he’s watching me, and make a point to look down and then slowly back up. “Sure. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”

  He growls as he grips my hips and lifts me. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist as he steps us under the hot spray. “You’re rough on a man’s ego,” he says, moving his hands to my ass and giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “Meh.” I go for nonchalant. “Maybe you should prove me wrong.”

  “Pixie.” He breathes his hot breath at my ear. I yelp when we step out of the shower and he stalks to the vanity, yanking open the drawer and pulling out a condom. He sets me on the counter while he rolls it down his hard length. In a matter of seconds, I’m back in his arms and we’re back under the hot spray. “Hold on tight,” he says as he pushes inside me.

  My head falls back and my hands lock tight around his neck. “Damn” falls from my lips. No matter how many times we’ve done this, it’s still a shock to my body. Nothing compares to Mark inside me.

  “So fucking tight,” he moans as he pulls out and pushes back in.

  So fucking big, I think it, but don’t get a chance to voice the words as he quickens his thrusts. He turns and reverses up until his back rests against the shower wall. Hands on my hips, he lifts me and pulls me back down. Over and over he repeats this, driving me crazy.

  “Mark,” I moan his name as my body tingles.

  “Give it to me, Pixie. I want all your pleasure. I want to hear you scream. I want to feel your pussy squeezing the fuck out of my cock.” His hands move to my ass and I tilt my hips, making him growl.

  Lift. Slam.

  Lift. Slam.

  “Oh, God,” I moan when my legs start to quiver.

  “No God, baby. It’s just me,” he says with a pant, never missing a beat in his ministrations of my body. “Come for me,” he demands.

  It’s as if his voice is a trigger for my orgasm. I call out his name. My nails dig into his neck as my body convulses around him. A roar tears from his lips and with one final thrust, he holds himself deep inside me as he loses control.

  “Want to change your answer?” he asks, kissing under my ear.

  “What?” I’m still coming down from my orgasmic paradise.

  “Why you like to stay over,” he reminds me.

  Lifting my head, my eyes find his, and he’s watching me intently. We’re both breathing heavily. Looping an arm around his neck, I use the other to place my hand on his chest, over his heart. “This,” I whisper hoarsely. “This is what keeps me here.”

  “Fuck,” he murmurs, and crashes his lips to mine. He kisses me lazily, moving us to the bench where he sits with me still wrapped around him. Slowly, he makes love to my mouth, his hands roaming my body. When the water eventually runs cold, he shuts it off and steps out of the shower. He makes sure I’m steady on my feet before releasing his hold on me. Towel in hand, he wraps it over my shoulders and hands me another for my hair before grabbing one for himself.

  Quietly, he leads me to his bed, pulling back the covers and waiting for me to climb in. He wastes no time following in after me, tugging me into his arms. “It’s yours you know. It will always be yours.”

  My heart slips a beat at his confession. “I’ll keep it safe,” I whisper into the darkness. These moments with him cause my heart to swell wit
h so much love. I can easily picture this being our life. It’s a vivid movie reel in my head, and it gives me something to hold on to.

  Hope for the future.

  New beginnings.

  Now we just need to say the words and make it true.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mark

  “Mark!” Knox shouts as Dawn and I walk around the house to the backyard. He comes running at me full speed. I let go of Dawn’s hand, bracing for impact from the little dude. He launches himself at me, and I pick him up in my arms, settling him on my hip.

  “Happy Birthday,” I say, bouncing him.

  “Dad gots fire that goes boom,” he says excitedly.

  “He does?” I ask, barely containing my laughter at his excitement.

  He nods, his head bobbing up and down. “For my birfday and memory day,” he tells me.

  “Memorial Day,” I correct. His third birthday was a couple of weeks ago, but Ridge and Kendall decided to wait until today to celebrate with everyone’s schedules.

  “I said that,” he says, wiggling to get down.

  I place him back on his feet and expect him to run back to the party; instead, he holds his arms up for Dawn. She doesn’t hesitate to pick him up. “Happy Birthday, handsome.” She kisses his cheek.

  He wraps his little hands on her cheeks and places a sloppy wet kiss on her lips. She giggles, which makes him smile. “Wuv you, D,” he says, resting his head on her shoulder.

  “Why do all the littles keep trying to steal my girl?” I ask him.

  He scrunches up his little nose and gives me his best evil-eye. “My girl,” he states possessively.

  Dawn shrugs, and carries him to the deck and sits down with him in her lap. That lasts about two-point-five seconds before he’s off running and playing with his sister and his cousins.

  “There’s a new little,” I say as I watch a little girl with dark curls chase after Everly.

  “That’s Mara’s little girl, Finley,” Kendall says. “She and Amelia went to college together. She’s in town for a job interview.” She points to the side yard where Amelia and Mara are standing and watching the kids run and play.

  “She’s adorable,” Dawn says.

  “She’s the sweetest little girl,” Reagan agrees.

  “So, does the little man get his own cake to demolish?” I ask.

  “No,” Kendall says adamantly. “However, I did go with the cupcake option. It’s so much easier.”

  Reagan holds her hand up for a high-five. “Exactly. It’s all about easier with this group.” She laughs.

  “What can I do?” Dawn asks.

  “Nothing. We’ve got it all under control. My dad and Ridge’s are manning the grill. Our moms are inside putting the rest of the food together and have given us all strict instructions to take a break and let them take care of it,” Kendall explains.

  “Who are we to fight them?” Reagan laughs.

  “Hey, guys,” Amelia says, joining us. “This is Mara. We were roommates in college.”

  We all take turns saying hello and shaking her hand, as Ridge’s mom, Heidi, calls out to tell us it’s time to eat. The kids’ plates are made, and they’re set up on the miniature picnic table on the deck before the rest of us filter through piling our plates high with burgers, hot dogs, chips, baked beans, and potato salad.

  Dawn’s smile has been a permanent fixture on her face today. No sadness in the depths of those hazel eyes. I know she still struggles, but each day she seems to be coping better than the last. I’ve yet to tell her that I’m in love with her. Every time I start to, something happens, like we end up tangled in the sheets. That one happens more often than not. I can’t seem to get my fill of her. I don’t want to tell her for the first time when I’m balls deep. Although, one of these days, I might not be able to bite my tongue from shouting it out.

  She’s easy to love.

  “You down for a game of football with the kids?” Tyler asks.

  “Definitely.” Standing, I drop a kiss to Dawn’s temple, and follow him to the yard. Ridge is already there with the kids gathered around. Knox is the oldest at three, and the only one who really understand the concept of what we’re doing. The others just seem to be excited to be involved.

  What was intended to be a game of football, turns out to be the kids chasing the adult with the ball, and whoever that is drops to the ground and lets the kids crawl all over him until handing it off to the next guy. Rinse and repeat.

  “How’s she doing?” Ridge asks with a sleepy Everly resting on his shoulder.

  We’ve just finished our football game with the kids, and they’re tuckered out. I tear my eyes from Dawn, who’s sitting and chatting with Mara, and look over at Everly. Her eyes are drooping. “She’s almost out,” I tell him.

  “I meant Dawn.”

  “Good, man. She’s doing better each day. Still sad at times, but that’s to be expected.”

  “What about you? How are you?”

  “Me? I’m fine.”

  “It’s hard to watch the woman you love go through that,” he says pointedly. “When Kendall was struggling with Knox, and her sister, it fu— freaking killed me,” he says, catching his slip up. Not that Everly would notice since she’s so tired.

  “I just didn’t know how to help her, you know? I mean, what do you say to someone who lost their family at the hands of their drug-addicted sister?” I shake my head in disgust thinking about Dawn’s sister, Destiny. She’s been out of rehab for months and we’ve not heard a peep from her. Not that I expected any different, but I know Dawn was hoping to hear from her. Hoping that rehab stuck this time. Although she struggled with letting her back into her life, I know that hope was alive and well until the months started to trickle by with no word.

  “Any word from her sister?”

  “Not a word.” My gaze goes back to Dawn, who’s smiling as she and Mara laugh at something Kent is saying. “It’s good to see her like this,” I say, nodding toward her.

  “It’s also good to see this one,” he looks down at Everly in his arms, “like this.” He laughs softly, breaking our serious moment. “She’s been going all day fighting off a nap, afraid she’s going to miss something.”

  “Looks like Daddy has the magic touch.”

  He grins. “It’s the best, man.”

  I nod. “Fatherhood looks good on you. Tyler too.”

  “You ever think about what’s next?”

  “Every day.”

  “Does she know that?”

  “Not yet.”

  “You need to handle that.”

  I nod. He’s right. We both know it. I’ve been walking on eggshells as far as my feelings and hers since the night we got the call about her parents’ accident. I’ve been dragging my feet, not wanting her sadness and pain to be mixed in with the happiness and joy I hope she’ll feel when I tell her how much she means to me. How she owns my heart. I’m frustrated at not having that ability to tell her how much she means to me. I detest keeping my feelings a secret, keeping the truth of my emotions beyond my actions close to my chest. Even though I’ve not said the words, I make damn sure to show her every day with a touch or a look… with my actions. I’m waiting for the right time, and I’m starting to figure out there may not be a right time. I might have to just blurt the words out. I’ve bitten my tongue enough these past few months. I just want her to know it’s my heart and not the situation that’s speaking for me.

  I rouse to the sound of a ringing cell phone. Peeling open my eyes, I blink once, twice, three times to clear the sleep haze and look at the clock. Just after one in the morning. The phone stops and I roll over to see Dawn is still sleeping soundly. Rolling back over, I reach for my phone and tap the screen.

  No missed calls.

  Climbing out of bed, I make my way to her side of the bed in the dark and feel around for her phone on the nightstand and tap the screen.

  One missed call.

  It’s not a number programmed into her phone
, and inwardly, I curse fucking scammers and telemarketers. It’s the middle of the damn night. Before I can move to get back in bed, it rings again. I scramble to pick it up and answer.

  “Hello,” I whisper, not wanting to wake Dawn.

  “Hi, I’m looking for Dawn Miller.”

  “Who’s this?” I ask, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

  “My name is Jasmine. I’m calling from Mason County Memorial. We have Destiny Miller here asking for her sister, Dawn. Is she available?”

  “You do realize it’s the middle of the night?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir, I’m sorry for waking you, but Ms. Miller is listed as our patient’s next of kin.”

  “Is she alive?” I ask rudely.

  “Mark?” Dawn’s eyes flutter open. When she sees that I’m on the phone, she sits up and leans against the headboard. “Who are you talking to?”

  “She’s here,” I tell the caller. “Baby, it’s Mason County Memorial. They have Destiny there and you’re listed as her next of kin.” I hand her the phone, then sit on the edge of the bed, resting my hand on her thigh.

  “Hello,” she says, eyes now wide open and fear etched in her features. “Yes, this is Dawn,” she says into the line.

  I watch her closely as her face goes pale and her hand that’s not holding the phone reaches out and grips mine. “Are they— are they okay?” she asks hesitantly. “Okay, should I come there?” She listens intently. “Okay. Thank you.” She ends the call, letting the phone fall into her lap.

  “What’s going on?”

  “That was the hospital,” she says, staring wide-eyed. “They have Destiny there.” She pauses, and I’m about to ask why Destiny’s there despite already having a pretty good idea when she continues. “She just had a baby.”

  “What?” I ask, not expecting those words to come out of her mouth.

  “My sister, she just delivered a baby. They’re both doing okay. She said Destiny asked her to call me.”