A Beautiful Funeral: A Novel (Maddox Brothers Book 5) (13 page)

Travis blinked. “You’re right. I know you’re right.”

I leaned in to kiss his lips, just as soft and warm as the first time I’d felt them on mine. He pulled my bare leg closer to him, kissing me harder, deeper. Travis always thought I was beautiful, but up until the moment I told him we were pregnant again, I’d forgotten just how the idea of carrying his child made Travis insatiable.

“If you want me to stop …” he trailed off. “Any contractions today?” I smiled and shook my head. I’d been having strong Braxton Hicks for nearly three weeks. We’d even gone to the hospital once but were sent home. He slipped my silk nightgown over my head and kissed my belly. He knew I had no intention of saying no.

We were at the part of my pregnancy that made my curves more difficult to work around, but Travis easily navigated every high and low, running his tongue over my stretched skin more eagerly than our first time in his apartment.

He sat on his knees at the end of the bed, holding my right foot in his hand, kneading my aching arch with his thumbs. He lifted my toe to his mouth and kissed the tip and then continued with my massage, moving up to my calf. Each time he finished a section, he would say goodbye with a kiss. My insides tensed when he found his way to my thighs. His head disappeared behind my pregnant belly, and I rested my head back.

“Where did you go?” I whispered.

His tongue made a wet line from my thigh to the inner folds of my most sensitive parts, and I let out a quiet sigh. “Oh. There you are.”

Travis gripped my hips and pulled me toward him, just as eager for him to be between my legs as I was. I could hear his legs brushing against the sheets, getting more excited with each flick of his tongue.

Just as I felt my insides building to release, he crawled to lay beside me, pressing his lips against my skin. Running his tongue up my belly, he followed the dark line that had formed beneath my belly button, spanning to my pelvic bone sometime during my second trimester. The baby stirred, and Travis jerked his head up, smiling and running his palm over the place our son had moved. It was such a strange combination—sex and parenting. It didn’t seem to be a struggle for Travis, to go from foreplay to attending to a wet bed or nightmare, and then returning to feeling sexy and desirable. Transitioning from mom to lover was more difficult for me.

Travis pulled me on top of him, running his hand over the small of my back to my ass. His fingers pressed into my skin as his eyes scanned my naked body from my hair to where our skin met. Everything around us melted away, and I was nineteen again, feeling his hands on me for the first time. Sex with Travis Maddox had always been amazing, but something about the way he worshiped my body when I was pregnant made it even better. I had never felt more beautiful or wanted than at that moment, and I would feel even more beautiful and wanted the next time he made love to me.

Travis gripped my thighs, steadying me as I slowly lowered myself onto him. The black leather braided bracelets on his wrist tumbled up his tensed forearm, drawing my attention to his tattoos dancing on the surface of his skin. I let my head fall back, biting my lip to keep myself from moaning. A quiet sigh left my lips instead. Travis rocked his hips just to reposition, and I tensed, already feeling close to climax. My body reacted so differently during pregnancy, to everything. Best of all … sex. Not everything was such a bonus, but bigger breasts, my husband catering to my every craving, and the ability to come faster than my husband were certainly the highlights. All Travis had to do was slip his fingers beneath my panties, and I was a flustered mess.

I slowed my movements, and Travis complied, letting me set the pace. His russet irises pored over me, relishing the moment. His eyes rolled back, and he groaned. As soon as the noise escaped his lips, we froze, waiting to hear a pause in the light snoring on the floor below.

I covered my mouth, trying not to giggle.

Travis smiled for a moment, and then his gaze fell to the place where our bodies met. He rolled his hips again, arching his back to bury himself deeper inside me. I had to concentrate to hold back, both hoping he would hurry and dreading the end.

“My God,” he whispered. “It blows my mind every fucking time how good you feel.”

I anchored my knees on each side of him, lifting up so I could feel him against me as I slid down around him again.

Travis paused, his eyes moving around the room. I started to speak, to ask him what was wrong, but he held his finger to his mouth.

We heard raised voices downstairs, and Travis closed his eyes, disappointed and regretting his next request. He patted me gently on the thigh, and I climbed off him, watching as he hopped out of bed and pulled on a pair of red basketball shorts. He put on a navy blue baseball hat and swung it around backward, hiding the mess I’d made of his hair while he was between my thighs.

“I’ll be back,” he said, leaning down to kiss me. His lips still tasted like me.

The muscles of his chest rippled as he moved, rushing to get downstairs to find out what was going on. He closed the door behind him, and I fell back against my pillow, frustrated. As Travis made his way downstairs, the snoring of the twins picked up, echoing one another. Travis’s voice joined the symphony of deep tones, and then I heard him yell.

I jumped up, glancing out the window to check for any signs of danger before wrapping myself in my robe and rushing downstairs. Travis was standing in the center of the living room, toe-to-toe with Trenton. Shepley was standing between them, his hands flat against their chests.

“What the hell?” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down.

Travis immediately relaxed and took a step back, letting Shepley stand between him and his brother.

Trenton watched me for a moment and then frowned, looking up at his bigger little brother. “I’ll be right back.”

Travis pointed at the floor. “I said no one leaves the house. That means no one, Trenton, Goddamn it! You shouldn’t have let her leave in the first place.”

“Who the fuck put you in charge?” Trenton snapped.

Travis tried to stay calm. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”

“What have I done?” Trenton said, taking a step toward Travis. “You seem to know more than the rest of us. Why don’t you enlighten me?”

Travis sighed, frustrated. He wasn’t allowed to say anything until Liis called the next day. “You stay here. One of the agents will pick her up from work.”

“I’m not sending a stranger to pick up my wife,” Trenton spat. “You wouldn’t, either.”

“Trent, you can’t go out there.”

“
Why
?”

“Because you can’t,” Travis said.

America padded down the stairs, flinching from the dim lighting offered from the lamps in the living room. She hooked her arm around mine, waiting to hear more in hopes of understanding what was going on. The brothers hadn’t argued in years, certainly not like this. It was unsettling, and I could see they were both upset about being on opposite sides of a disagreement.

“I’m going,” Trenton said.

Travis went to grab his arm, but Shepley stopped him. He communicated with his eyes what we all knew. If Travis attempted to physically stop Trenton from leaving to pick up Camille, there would be a brawl in the living room.

“Trent,” Shepley said, following him down the hall. America followed him.

Travis was breathing hard through his nose and shifting his weight from one foot to the other, trying to release the negative energy. It reminded me of the way he behaved just before a fight.

“You’re okay,” I whispered, touching his shoulder. “He doesn’t understand you’re just trying to keep him safe.”

Travis was glaring at the hallway, listening to Shepley try to persuade him to stay. “If he’d just trust me for once. Stubborn motherfucker.”

“He trusts you,” I said. “He’s thinking about Camille.”

Travis’s shoulders relaxed, and he reached back to touch my belly. “We have to think about everyone.”

“Let Shepley and Mare talk to him.”

Travis rubbed the back of his neck and began to pace, waiting for his cousin and my best friend to talk sense into his brother. I had planned for broken hearts and tears. I even assumed there would be anger once we came clean about the lies; even when we explained it was the only way to buy time while keeping everyone safe. I wasn’t prepared for the brothers to turn on each other.

CHAPTER TWELVE

AMERICA

S
HEPLEY FLATTENED HIS HAND
against the door, begging Trenton with his eyes not to take it further. Jim, Jack and Deana, and the kids were still asleep, although I wasn’t sure how with all the loud whispering. The lamp in the living room was the only light on in the house, and the air conditioner had just kicked on, drowning out the crickets whose chirping was just announcing the arrival of summer.

At three a.m., there was no traffic outside and no headlights sliding across the wall, just the old bulb in the corner of the living room surrounded by a dirty white drum held up by a five-foot tall Lucite column with a brass base. The entire home looked frozen in 1980, except that it hadn’t frozen. Everything was worn, stained, tattered, or marred, mostly by the five boys who grew up here.

The light from the lamp didn’t quite reach the hallway, so we stood with Trenton in the dark.

“Shep, I love you, but get the fuck outta my way,” Trenton said. His dark form moved toward the door, but Shepley moved in front of him.

“C’mon, cousin. You’re going to punch me in front of my wife?”

Trenton frowned and then turned to me. “Turn around for a second, Mare.”

“No,” I said, crossing my arms.

Trenton sighed. “I have to pick up my wife from work. I have to leave now. I don’t want her to have to wait on me.”

“Agent Perkins can do it,” I said. “He can leave right now. He’s ready to go, standing in the kitchen, keys in hand.”

As Trenton became more agitated, I threw my arms around him and squeezed. “Our kids are here; your nephews and nieces. Your dad is here. Travis and Shepley can’t save everyone. We need you here, Trenton.”

“What if something happens to Camille?” he asked, conflicted.

“Do you think whoever the agents are protecting us from are going to hit The Red Door before the house? She doesn’t even work there anymore. Not technically,” Shepley said.

Trenton glared at my husband. “Would you leave it to a stranger to pick up your wife when we all know people are out there hunting us down?”

Shepley sighed, and his shoulders sank. “No.”

Trenton put his hand on the knob. “Then don’t ask something of me you couldn’t do yourself.”

Just as he opened the door, an agent standing on the porch turned to stand in the way. He wore a suit like the other two agents, but he was much bigger. “I’m going to have to ask you remain inside the home, sir.”

Trenton looked up at the agent, and then back at us and over my shoulder. I turned to see Travis standing at the end of the hall.

“What the fuck is this?” Trenton asked.

“That’s Agent Blevins,” Travis said, smug.

“Why are you asking him?” Shepley asked. “Travis is just as clueless as the rest of us.”

Trenton’s brow furrowed, and he lifted one hand to point four fingers at Travis. “He knows all of their names. Do you happen to know all the names of everyone who works at the FBI, Shep, because I sure as shit don’t.”

“What are you trying to say?” Shepley asked.

Trenton’s face screwed into disgust, but at least he stepped away from the door. “I don’t know. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I know
he
is part of it.” He pointed at Travis.

Shepley and I traded glances. This was going downhill fast.

“I’ll go with you,” Shepley said.

“Shep!” I said. “You will not!” I turned to Trenton. “You were told not to leave the house, but you took her anyway.”

“She works to blow off steam, Mare. You know that,” Trenton explained. “She’s had a rough day. I was just trying to …”

“We need to do this their way, Trent,” I said. “They’re just trying to keep us safe. Why would you do anything to make their job harder?”

Trenton shifted. “You sound like Mom.”

“I know you want to pick her up so she feels safe, but we need to worry about what we can all do to actually be safe. No more crazy talk. No more Maddox machismo. Agent Perkins is going to bring Cami back, and you’re going to follow orders until we get this figured out.”

Agent Perkins jingled the keys in his hand, and Agent Blevins stepped to the side to allow him to pass. The door closed, and Trenton stomped past us up the stairs. Shepley followed him.

I returned to the living room where Travis and Abby were standing. When I was within earshot, they stopped whispering.

“Well done,” Abby said, patting my shoulder. I pulled away from her. My reaction startled her. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.

Abby’s gaze drifted to Travis.

“Don’t look at him,” I snapped. “I’m asking you. My best friend. My sort of sister-in-law.”

“Mare,” she began.

I arched an eyebrow. “Choose your words carefully, Abby. My kids are in the house hiding from some unknown assailant, and if you know why, you’d better tell me.”

“I,” Abby began but winced. She touched her belly.

“Oh, stop,” I said. “Don’t even try it.”

She blew out a breath and then reached for Travis. He held her to his side.

“Really?” I asked. “You’re going to fake a contraction to get out of telling me the truth?”

“She’s been having them for weeks,” Travis said.

I crossed my arms. “Something else you’re not telling me.”

She stood upright and nodded to her husband, signaling that it was over.

“Well?” I said.

“Mare, not now. Abby needs to go upstairs and rest. Stress isn’t good for her.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please. I birthed three gigantic Maddox boys. No less than forty-seven hours of labor, and they were all over nine pounds. I only went to the hospital to have Emerson after I picked up Ezra from a two-hour T-ball practice. She’s not the first woman to have a contraction.”