Staking Her Claim...: Book 1 in the Patricks' Brothers series (26 page)

Two weeks, four days, and three hours is how long it has been since I signed for the delivery of beheaded roses and the note that came with it. The note that forced Harper to move into Brookes’ house by that afternoon. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Brookes played a significant role in moving her in, and from what I hear, she hasn’t spoken to him since she stepped foot over the threshold to his house. But don’t take that as the gospel, because all of my information comes from Rob these days.

I haven’t been allowed to talk to Harper, my Mom, or Uncle Luke since I started working on this case. Hell, I haven’t even been permitted to speak to any of my brothers other than Brookes. Something that’s wearing on me more as each day passes with no clear ending in sight.

We’re no closer to narrowing down a suspect, and that’s in no small part due to, Simon the forensic lab technician having been on vacation for the previous three weeks. Hopefully, seeing as he’s back at work as of this morning, we’ll have an answer as to whether this guy’s prints are in the system or not by the close of business tomorrow. These past weeks haven’t been all bad, though. In fact, some parts have been pretty damn sensational.

Rob and I have fallen into a natural, easy-going rhythm or, at least, one that works for us. Max didn’t blink when Rob started spending the night, every night. It wasn’t even something we discussed the morning after he slept over for the first time as if Max had been expecting it.

Max simply placed a mug in front of Rob and started asking questions about his life as if they were old friends. Rob didn’t seem bothered by his inquiries, and if he was, he didn’t show it. He answered everything Max asked, following it up with some questions of his own. It was in those times I learned more about the man Rob became after her left, Lancaster. That was something I could have kissed Max for. I didn’t, but I could have.

Rob shared that he’d been considering opening his own bar for a few years before heading to, Blackwater, Colorado. He hadn’t decided on a location, that was what had been holding him back from taking the plunge, but he had the rest of the details finalized in his head.

I’m not sure that makes for the best of business plans, but his explanation for not writing it down to keep it all straight was; that would make it real and he was certain he was ready to take that step yet.

That night, after several – honestly, I lost count at three – mind-blowing orgasms, Rob was stroking his hand through my hair as my head rested on his chest when I asked,

“Is opening your own bar still something you’d like to do?”

It had been playing on my mind all day. The possibility he wasn’t happy with his good, he wasn’t comfortable at EyeSee, I wanted to make sure Rob knew that he wasn’t obligated to say because Brookes had helped him out. I needed to know that he didn’t feel indentured to the company because of some misplaced sense of guilt. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Brookes and Brandt, even Finn loved having him back in their lives. Needless to say, so did I, but that wouldn’t change just because he wasn’t working with us every day. Even if Rob were to branch out into something else, on his own, he and my brothers would always be close. Just look at how they took him back into the fold after years of no contact. They have a bond a lot of blood brothers don’t have, so Rob had nothing to fear if he did up and decide one day he didn’t want to work security and investigations anymore.

Sliding his hand down my back, Rob cups my hip pulling me in closer.

“I think about it sometimes. Think about being my own boss, making my own hours, doing something I’m good at; but I love working with you brothers, and I’d miss not getting to see you every day if I did, so I’ve put it on the backburner for now. The idea’s still there, but until I’ve got a reason to do it I’m happy with where I am. Why do you ask?”

“There was just something about how you talked about it with, Max that started me thinking, that’s all,” I mumble, kissing a trail between his pecs.

“Yeah,” he groans. “And how was I talking about it?”

Shifting so that I’m propped up on my elbow and can look down on him, I let my gaze wander, leisurely taking him in. He truly is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen, and that’s with or without clothes on.

At thirty-three, Rob could easily pass for a man five years his junior. He takes care of himself and works out religiously. Since he’s been here, at Max’s, he uses the home gym Max has set up in the guest room morning and night. More often than not, in the middle of the day too. Not that I can blame him, there’s not a lot to do around here to keep a person entertained. There’s only so much daytime reality TV someone can watch before you consider throwing an eighty-inch flat screen out the window.

Rob’s dark blue eyes have cleared, the shadows that had been plaguing him, lurking behind his carefully constructed mask over the days that followed our talk had vanished. It was as if unburdening himself of the horrors he suffered, and explaining why he couldn’t make promises to me he wasn’t sure he could keep then lifted a weight off his shoulders.

He’s been a lot more comfortable, I’d go as far as to say; relaxed even. And with that contentment came a measure of serenity for me. I didn’t worry that he’d up and leave anymore. I wasn’t concerned that he would run if we hit a rough patch, either. Now, I felt he was in this for the long-haul. I didn’t need him to keep reassuring me, because now, I could feel what he’d said was nothing but the truth.

Tracing my fingers over the thick stubble of his jaw, I commit the planes of his face to memory. The line of his high cheekbones. I notice that small creases appear at the corners of his eyes when he smiles or frowns, and the dimple in his left cheek is marginally deeper than the right.

His nose has a slight bump at the bridge indicating it’s been broken at least once, but that in no way takes away from how handsome he is. If anything, it only makes him more attractive. I watch his brow furrow and his eyebrows arch inward as he takes in my study of him, but that doesn’t halt my progress.

I love the way his dark eyelashes curl, long and thick, framing his stunning eyes. Most women would kill for eyelashes like that, I know I would. But what mesmerizes me most are his lips. The bottom one is a fraction fuller than the top, making it perfect for me to take into my mouth and bite down on when the mood strikes me.

“What are you thinking about, Sweetness?” He asks, interrupting my poorly disguised study of him.

Dropping a chaste kiss to his smirking lips, I sigh.

“To be honest, not a lot, and that’s a first for me. Usually, I have trouble shutting down my brain so I can get to sleep, but lately, I’ve found I’m not struggling as much as I was.”

“That’s great, Baby. We all need downtime, you more than most. You work your ass off, getting in before all your brothers, leaving last, and working weekends. I used to worry you’d burn yourself out before you turned thirty-five, but now that you’re with me I can make sure that doesn’t happen,” he says grinning wickedly.

Slapping his chest playfully, a mock pout at him.

“Are you saying you were concerned I’d turn into a dried up shell of a woman because I have a strong work ethic?”

“No chance of that now, is there? Every time I’m around you, you’re dripping wet,” Rob says, throwing his head back into the pillow, laughing.

Leaning forward, I bite down on his nipple. Not enough to hurt, but hard enough to get his attention and stilt his humor.

“Asshole,” I grumble. “But back to what I was saying about the bar; would you do it if the opportunity presented itself?” Honestly, I want to know how he feels about it because the perfect space has become available in a building less than a block away from, EyeSee’s offices.

Jaq Mulligan’s, an Irish pub come Bistro opened ten years ago, and up until recently had been doing well for itself. Sadly, Mr. Mulligan’s wife died, suffering a sudden and fatal stroke in her sleep. After laying her to rest, Jacob, or Mr. Mulligan, couldn’t bring himself to continue running the pub without her. He claimed she was the heart and soul of the place anyway, so what was the point?

They had been together forty-five blissful years, according to him. Marrying when they were both eighteen, and immigrating to the U.S. forty-three years ago they wanted to chase their dreams in the land of opportunity he said.

That dream, to hear him tell the story, began when he married the love of his life, and only got brighter with the birth of each of his five children. But the icing on the cake was finally having saved enough over the years to open the pub named after his late wife, Jaqueline. They had done everything together; moved countries, had children, lived good, honest lives, and started their own business. Now, he just couldn’t see clear to continue running it in her absence.

I had spent a lot of time with Jaqueline over the last seven years. I stumbled across the pub when I was on my way home from work one day, and every Thursday night since, I’ve been stopping in there after work. I have dinner, a few drinks and spend time with Jacob and Jaqueline.

I got to know them well over the years and was devastated on hearing the woman I had come to think of as a second mother had passed away. Jaqueline was one of those women who always had a smile on her face, no matter how exhausted she was. She was a fountain of advice, and a fantastic listener. People were drawn to her kind, caring nature, and she was known for sitting down with customers, one’s she’d never met before and learning their life stories before they knew they were talking to a virtual stranger.

Jacob spoke to me a few weeks after her funeral, telling me he was in the process of closing the pub and asked if I knew anyone who would be interested in buying it. He didn’t own the whole building, just the ground floor and car park out back. The upper eight floors were owned by two other businesses; a legal firm specializing in family law cases, and PR agency who focused on sports management.

My immediate thought on hearing he was selling was to beg him not to, but when Jacob went on to say he was moving to New Hampshire to be closer to his youngest Son, his wife, and their two children, what could I say? At this time in his life, he needed to be with family, so I did something I never do and that was; make an impulsive decision.

I bought the space the pub was in at the asking price, letting Jacob leave sooner rather than later so as not to draw the agony of closing the doors on his and his wife’s dream out. Hence, my curiosity surrounding Rob’s dream. What could be more poetic than continuing the legacy of that particular building? A building which makes dreams come true.

Rob places a kiss on the side of my neck before sliding us both under the covers.

“Hypothetically speaking, if everything were to fall into place I’d give it some serious consideration,” he murmurs. “But truthfully, I’m good where I am, Sweetness. I didn’t think I’d get the chance to have a family, and being back with your brothers and finally having you in my life the way I’ve always wanted, is better than any pipe-dream I had about running a bar.”

Just as I’m slipping into that beautiful place halfway between sleep and consciousness, Rob whispers,

“Better than any fucking dream, Baby,” punctuating his words with a kiss to the back of my head. That night I sleep better than I have since the day before he left fifteen years ago, my dreams filled with nothing but beauty and love for the man whose arms I’m cradled in.

The next day started like any other. Rob woke me up sliding between my legs, rocking his hips slowly until my eyes opened and I gave him my full attention. His maddeningly slow thrusts had me wrapping my legs around his waist urging him to hurry up. He didn’t, though.

Rob continued his leisurely pace, eventually increasing the force he pushed into with until I was moaning his name, begging incoherently for him to make me come. Taking pity on me, Rob slammed into me taking my breath away, only stopping when we’d both crested the wave of our orgasms, laying spent, tangled in a sweaty mess of arms, legs, and sheets.

Afterward, we showered together, to save water, of course, which evidently isn’t the environmentally conscious choice seeing as we run the water cold every time we do. Dressing in the same room is just as likely to end in naked playtime, so I learned quickly if I wanted to escape the bedroom before midday I had to get dressed before Rob finished in the bathroom. Something he wasn’t all too enthused about.

The only difference about today was that Rob was required at the office for a consultation with a new client Brandt had convinced to meet with us. The client currently contracted, Alliance Inc., to oversee their personal and business security, and while we didn’t make a habit of poaching our competitor’s clients, I can’t say I blamed Brandt this time.