Enticing Interlude (Tempest #2) (20 page)

Carter was petting Sam while watching Marcus and Avery out of the corner of his eye. He scooted closer to his mother as they approached.

“Hey, sis.” I leaned in and kissed her cheek, clasping Marcus’ outstretched hand.

Avery smiled at me from her position underneath Marcus’ other arm, but her gaze slid to Bridget and Carter. I knew she was curious as hell about them. When I’d called to let her know we were coming, she’d wanted to know immediately what was up. I’d never brought a woman to meet her. Not even Antonia. I’d managed to deflect her by telling her how new our relationship was and that I didn’t want to jinx it.

My dad was the last to make his way over. I frowned noticing how lank he was and how gingerly he moved. Then there was a long awkward moment when everyone stopped talking and stared at Bridget and Carter. Bridget’s mouth formed a smile that I knew was forced. It was obvious to me just how nervous she was being the center of all that attention.

I immediately crossed over to her and draped my arm across her shoulders, the same way Marcus held my sister. I put my other hand on Carter and brought them both forward to meet everyone.

“Everybody, this is Bridget Dubois and her son, Carter.”

Avery’s eyes got large. She’d clearly made the same wrong assumption I had when I first met them. I shook my head trying to communicate telepathically for her not to go there. But she did anyway, I could practically see the gears turning in her head as she did the math.

“Welcome to the farm.” She smiled gently at Bridget and Carter without a hint of reserve or disapproval. This was Avery after all, friend to everyone, stranger to none. I should have trusted her to be kind. It’s just that the stuff between her and Lace had thrown me off. “It’s nice to meet you both.” She crouched down in front of Carter. “Hey, I was just going up the road to see the water buffalo calves in the barn. Would you like to go with me?”

His eyes locked on Avery, Carter responded to that invitation with one of his winning smiles. She’d scored an immediate adoring fan. “Can I, Mom?”

“Sure, sweetie. I’d like to see them, too.” Her lip went between her teeth as she glanced at me. “Let me just meet everyone first and then I’ll join you.”

Avery held out her hand and Carter took it without hesitation. He did a couple of quick back and forth glances between the two of us. “She looks just like you, Justin,” he decided.

“We’re twins, Champ.”

“She’s prettier.” His face turned crimson as everyone laughed.

“That she definitely is,” I quipped as they walked off.

I turned to my father, drawing Bridget closer into my side. “How are you, Dad?”

“I’m fine.” I didn’t believe him. Not for a minute. He didn’t look good. He was pale and much thinner than he’d been the last time I’d been out to see him. I was glad they had moved him up on the transplant list. It didn’t look to me like he could hold on much longer.

He extended a hand to Bridget. When she reached out to take it, he laid his other over hers, and then looked at me, approval warming his eyes. “She’s beautful, Son. Reminds me of your mom. You know she was your age when we got married.”

My chest constricted. Any comparison to my mom was high praise from him.

“Thank you, Mr. Jones.” Bridget smiled and blushed prettily. “But don’t be planning a wedding yet. We only just started dating.”

I should’ve been relieved by her tap on the brakes, but I wasn’t. Bridget had turned my world completely upside down. I craved her company, and I didn’t want to think about there ever being a time when she might not be at my side.

“Arthur,” my dad corrected. “Call me Arthur, please.”

“Arthur, it will be then.”

Mr. and Mrs. Anthony stepped up and introduced themselves, insisting Bridget call them by their first names also.

“We’re very informal here,” Don told her before confiscating the duffles and shooing us in the direction Avery and Carter had gone.

“Go on. Enjoy yourselves and the farm. We’ll put the bags on the beds in your rooms. We’ve got you both upstairs at the end of the hall across from each other. I think your father’s overdue for a nap, and I need to get back in the kitchen, but we’ll all meet up again at suppertime.” Rheta Anthony barked out decisive instructions as if she expected them to be obeyed immediately, as invariably they were. She ran the bed and breakfast and everyone around it in a manner much like Mary Timmons managed Black Cat.

Bridget and I had taken a couple of steps up the hill when Marcus called my name. I looked back growing a little concerned when I noticed how tense he appeared.

“What’s up?” I asked with trepidation.

Marcus gave Bridget an uncertain glance.

“I’ll just go on up ahead so you two can talk privately.” She squeezed my hand, and I got lost for a minute watching her long hair sway between her shoulders as she walked on ahead.

“Your dad’s not doing so well.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” I returned, a little more heat to my tone than was warranted, but I was irritated with him, something that wasn’t out of the ordinary. Today it was more that he was keeping me from alone time with my woman rather than the usual personality clash. “But what more can we do? The doctors are doing everything they can and Avery and I come out here whenever we’re free.”

He nodded, looking uncomfortable, and dug his hands into the front pocket of his jeans. “I haven’t told Avery yet, but Mom says your dad’s doctors have changed their minds about him being a good candidate for surgery. They’ve taken him off the transplant list.”

“Shit.” My stomach took a nosedive while my eyes locked with his. “You want me to tell her?”

“No. We just found out today. I’m getting ready to tell her myself. I’ve learned my lesson. I don’t keep things from her anymore. Good or bad we work things out together now.” He yanked a hand through his long hair. “I just told you so you’ll understand why I’m pushing her to move up the wedding even more. She was warming to the idea of June before this, but I don’t think we can wait that long. Not if your dad’s gonna be in any shape to give her away.”

Whoa.
My mind hadn’t even gone there. Avery would definitely want that. Our father might be flawed, but he was the only one we had. “How long do they think he has?”

“They don’t really know.” He shook his head. “But they warned him that he’s not likely to survive another episode like the one he had when we were on the road in Atlanta.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” I managed to say after a couple of swallows. My eyes burned and I looked away, blinking that shit back. Avery and I had only just recently reconciled with him, with this new and better man he had worked so hard to become after we’d left home. I thought we had years to make up for the time we’d lost, but it seemed as though that wasn’t going to be the case.

After our conversation, I followed in Bridget’s direction, picking up my pace as I went suddenly having an overwhelming urge to be back with her. It was a raw need. I wanted to see and touch her and share this awful news about my dad. Not because I thought she could actually do anything about it, but because I knew that she would care.

When I reached the old barn, a small ramshackle building where the water buffalo calves were put when they were mature enough to be weaned, I heard Carter’s trilling laughter and my sister’s answering one. “WBB’s. That’s perfect,” I heard her say as I unlatched the door, and stepped inside.

I blinked, giving my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkened interior before I saw them all sitting together on the floor in the corner. Dimly, I was aware of Marcus shutting the door behind me.

“What does that stand for?” I asked moving straight toward them.

“Water Buffalo Babies,” Carter answered with a grin, his hands busy stroking the flat heads of the two sleeping calves in front of him. “I gave them a nickname.”

“Way to go, Champ.” I smiled back, though inside I still felt all tensed up. My gaze locked with Bridget’s. Her eyes narrowed. Immediately she knew something was wrong. She stood up and came to me, reaching for my hand. As soon as she touched me, I felt the tightened knots in my gut loosening. I hauled her closer, lifting her feet off the ground, and kissed her, hard and long and until both of us were breathless.

She swayed a bit when I set her back down. I stared into her dazed eyes and plucked a piece of straw from her hair.

One word blazed a heated path through my mind. “Mine.”

For an old farmhouse, my bathroom was divinely appointed. The water pressure of the shower inside the old fashioned claw foot tub was strong. Rheta had laid out a fragrant assortment of high end bath soaps and shampoos to choose from, and a large fluffy bath towel awaited me on the warming rack. There had been two, but Carter had used the other when he’d taken his bath ahead of me.

Justin, Carter and I had been all over the forty acre farm. I think Justin needed a distraction after whatever had upset him earlier with Marcus, and I had been equally glad for something else to do, rather than dwelling on our recent kiss.

It’d been purposeful and way intense, and he hadn’t seemed to mind at all that we’d had an audience. It was almost as if he wanted witnesses, like he wanted to put a stamp on me that marked me as his own.

My cheeks had flamed afterward. I think Avery noticed how embarrassed I’d been because she’d immediately made a joke about what a romantic spot the barn was, and then she’d kissed Marcus. I didn’t find her to be anything at all like the stuck up, self-absorbed celebrity Lace had described. I found her just as easy to like as her twin. She seemed enchanted with Carter and had gone out of her way to make him feel comfortable. She’d even made sure he had chocolate chip cookies and milk for a snack when we returned from exploring the farm.

I ran a brush through my hair, wrapped a towel around myself and tucked the loose ends between my breasts before opening the door a crack so I could peer out into the hall. Finding it deserted, I started toward my room. Hearing a creak behind me, my hand went to my throat, and I whirled around to find Justin lounging against the doorframe to his room. He was shirtless and sexy, wide chest, defined pecs, flat abs, lots of tantalizing smooth skin above low slung jeans. My mouth went dry as he stared back at me with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

“Babe.” He pushed away from the wall and reached for me. “Come to my room for a minute.”

“But Carter…”

“He’s asleep,” he explained, and I glanced over my shoulder to see that indeed he was, his mouth wide open, his breaths slow and rhythmic.

Heart hammering in my chest, I nodded. Though frightened, it was impossible for me to resist the stark need I saw shining from his eyes. I shuffled forward, holding the edges of the towel tightly together in my grasp.

“I just want to talk,” he reassured in a soothing tone.

The room was decorated much the same as mine with old fashioned wallpaper and antique furnishings, including a quilt covered four poster bed. Justin’s boots and socks lay on the floor next to it. Barefoot, he moved to the door and locked it behind us. I felt my eyes go wide.

Get it together,
I told myself, but my mind didn’t follow the directive. After all, I was standing in Justin’s room in a towel with the door locked and him only half dressed. I think a little bit of a freak out was a given.

“I got some bad news today.” His deep voice resonated in the air between us, and I stood completely hypnotized as he crossed directly to me. “It’s about my father and I just wanted… I just needed…” He trailed off. I’d never seen Justin so uncertain. I responded instinctively to the hurt shining in his eyes.

I stepped closer, just as I’d done in the barn. I forgot about the towel and the lock and my racing heart and everything else and just wrapped my arms around his narrow waist and laid my head on his strong shoulder. I felt his warm arms come around me and tighten.

“I told you he was sick.” His breath came out in a warm rush over the top of my head. “But it’s really worse than that. His liver is failing, and Marcus told me the latest doctor’s report was worse than expected.”

His words shot an icy chill through me that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. I remembered receiving the awful news about my own father. I’d been in school when they’d called me to the principal’s office to tell me he’d died from a heart attack. “I’m sorry, Justin.” I eased back to look at him, shaken by the raw pain I saw there. Feeling helpless, I kept one hand pressed to his back, but moved the other up to rest it against the coarse surface of his cheek.