Staking Her Claim...: Book 1 in the Patricks' Brothers series (29 page)

Shoving him out of the way, Brookes crouches down until he staring down into his sister’s half-closed eyes.

“You scared the shit out of me, Cupcake. Try not to do that again, okay? Who knows how many good years I have left, I don’t need you subtracting any before I’ve had a chance to live them.” Cocking an eyebrow at him, Alysia hums low in her throat, which ends up causing a hacking round of coughs that has her flinching.

Brandt doesn’t approach Alysia, but the subtle tip of his chin is his way of communicating he’s glad she’s okay. The guy’s got to be dealing with some pretty heavy shit right now, considering he just blew a hole in the back of a man’s head the size of a golf ball and all. His brothers seem to realize he needs space to process his actions, leaving him to take up a spot leaning into his shoulder against the windows overlooking, Downtown Dallas.

                                                                                    *****

Later that night…

              After the police had arrived and questioned Brookes and Brandt for over an hour and a half about the shooting, they ruled it self-defense and told Brandt that shy of tying up a few loose ends he was free to go. I was long gone by the time he was cleared, having ridden in the ambulance to the hospital with Alysia so that she could be checked out.

I found out minutes before her release that aside from requiring his assurances he wasn’t going to be leaving town anytime soon, Brandt wouldn’t be facing any charges over Peter’s death. I hadn’t been concerned, but it was good to know for sure he wouldn’t have to be fighting any trumped up charges for killing a man who would have done the same to us without thinking twice about it.

Alysia visibly relaxed when I shared the news with her, and until then I hadn’t known she was actually worried her brother could possibly be arrested for saving her life. I suppose it should have, but all my energy had been focused on listening to every word the doctors and nurses said about her injuries and how best to care for her while she recuperated. Something she would be doing at my apartment whether she like it or not.

Thankfully, Alysia didn’t blink when I loaded her into my, Escalade that Jett had helpfully offered to drop off at the hospital parking lot, and steered us away from her place, toward mine. Helping her upstairs, I made sure she was safely ensconced in the bubble bath I’d drawn her before I let my mind wander to the events of earlier today.

They played in high definition on repeat with no end in sight. I was bombarded with thoughts of how quickly she could have been taken from me. I spared a moment to consider what my life would have been like if I’d never been able to hold her, kiss her, or tell her I loved her again but decided quickly to veto that line of thinking because no good could ever come of it.

One thing became glaringly obvious as I was dissecting the acts of senseless violence that took place today; I wouldn’t be letting another minute go by without making sure Alysia knew exactly how I felt about her.

Rising from my position at the end of the bed, cracking the door to my adjoining bathroom open, I took a second to watch her while she was blissfully unaware of me presence.

Her head was tilted back resting on resting on the lip of the tub, her hair splayed out floating around her like a halo of black silk. With one leg propped up on the side as the other trailed aimlessly through the water, creating ripples that parted the thin layer of bubbles that remained. Alysia’s arms were relaxed at her sides, but her fingers were restless, dancing just under the surface making random, irregular patterns. I could tell she wasn’t asleep, her face was too tense for that, she was thinking instead. I just wished I knew what was going through her head so that I could comfort her if that’s what she needed.

“I know you’re there watching me, Rob. I can feel you overthinking things from here,” she murmurs, her voice just as raw, if not more so than when we found her.

Sitting on the first step of the sunken tub, I grip her hand but don’t make any other moves to touch her. I wanted to feel her fingers laced with mine, I needed it, and I didn’t think there would be a time in the foreseeable future, or ever, that I wouldn’t crave this most basic of connection with her.

Stroking my thumb along the side of hers, I keep my voice quiet and hopefully steady as I tell her all the things I need her to hear.

“There was a split second when I saw you lying on the floor today, that I thought I’d lost you, Sweetness, and that tore me to shreds. The idea of living a life without you was so painful that I’d decided if you were gone then I would follow you because this life isn’t worth living if you’re not here to share it with me. I thought about all the thing I should have told you before I left this morning, and couldn’t come up with a reason why I hadn’t. Just knowing there was a chance I might not have ever got to say them hurt almost as much as the prospect of losing you. That you could have died without me telling you how much I love you, how in love with you I am, felt like I’d failed you somehow. I shouldn’t have let an hour pass by over the last three weeks without telling you I love you.”

Capturing her cheeks with my palms, I angle her head gently until she’s looking directly into my eyes. Her eyes are shimmering with tears, but behind that they are bright with recognition.

As she goes to speak, I press a soft kiss to her lips to silence her.

“Don’t talk, Baby, the doctor said to rest your voice until you can take a deep breath without coughing, and we both know you can’t so just listen for now,” I plead. “I love you, Alysia Patricks’ there isn’t a day that’s gone by since the day I met you that I haven’t. I know I’ve made mistakes, and God knows I’ll probably make dozens more, but there will never be another man alive who will love and adore you as much as I do, I can promise you that. You own me, Sweetness. Mind, body, heart, and soul; you own me. I don’t know where you see our relationship heading, but me; I want everything. Marriage, babies, a house in the suburbs, I all of that and more with you if you’re willing to give it to me.”

Reaching over to pull a towel off the rack, I lay it beside the tub, saying,

“I’m gonna go get the painkillers the ER doctor prescribed for you and give you a chance to get out, but promise me you’ll let me know somehow if you need me. Throw shit, bang on the wall, I don’t care, just make enough noise so that I’ll hear you and coming running, okay?” Smiling, Alysia doesn’t speak but she does grin and nod her agreement.

The thought crossed my mind she might need some time to let what I’ve just told her sink in, because there’s no way I can stay in here with her while she’s naked and wet in my tub, water cascading over her luscious curves without me feeling compelled to touch her. I’m trying to be a gentleman, something I’m not all that familiar with, but for her, I’m willing to try. I don’t want her to get the impression our relationship is a purely physical one, it’s anything but. Like I said; I want everything with her, not just her body.

I give Alysia fifteen minutes to get herself organized before making my way back to my bedroom, a glass of water and her pills in hand. Making my way around to her side of the bed, the one furthest from the door, passing her the pills and water, I climb under the cool sheets beside her.

Tucking her back into my chest, I wrap myself around her like a vine and settle in, immediately feeling exhausted. The weight of the day has finally caught up with me as my eyelids begin to droop and the tension bleeds from my muscles. As my eyes close for the last time today, I hear the words that will change the course of my life.

“I love you too, Rob. I think I loved you before I even met you, I was just waiting for you to show up and realize it.”

Five years later…

              “I told you, Mac, he’ll be home soon. Now, can you please go and clean up your Lego before you forget. Because if you don’t do it now, you won’t remember to do it before you go to bed. And you know that when your brother wakes up hungry in the morning that he’s going to eat it,” I reason with my four-year-old daughter, Mackenzie.

Four years, ten months, and six days ago; precisely nine months before, Mackenzie Harper Leighton was born, Rob and I got married in a small ceremony in my Mom’s backyard. Harper and Brookes stood beside us as we said our vows, Mom cried when Uncle Luke gave me away, and then again when Rob slid the gorgeous three-carat diamond wedding band on my finger. Come to think of it; I don’t think my Mom stopped crying tears of joy once that day.

We hadn’t wanted a big wedding, both of us being perfectly content with making it a family-only affair. Rob was more worried about our honeymoon, anyway. His grand plan was to whisk me off to some secluded beach where I could strut around in a bikini or less all day, but, in the end, it hadn’t quite worked out the way he planned.

First, our plane was grounded because of ongoing maintenance issues, followed by, Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport being closed down due to a bomb scare. It ended up being a hoax, but it was too late to salvage the trip Rob had planned. It didn’t bother me, though. Nothing could ruin the happy buzz I had going on after marrying the only man I’ve ever loved, but Rob was a different story altogether.

Thankfully, Mom knew a lady who ran a quaint, little, bed and breakfast an hour from the airport and was able to book us the eight days we’d intended to spend at the beach there instead.

To cut a long story short; Mackenzie, Mac for short, was conceived sometime that week, and her brother, Jensen Brookes Leighton, during a weekend away to celebrate of third wedding anniversary. At four and fifteen months consecutively, Mac and Jensen have their Daddy wrapped firmly around their chubby, little fingers. Me, not so much.

I’m the one who has to deal with the tantrums, tears, and spit-up. I can see straight through their innocent smiles when I’ve just had to clean the toilet for the umpteenth time that day after, Mac flushed another entire roll of toilet paper to see if it would ‘disappear’ this time.

Rob and I getting married and having two beautiful children together weren’t the only changes in the last five years, however. No, I made sure Rob got everything he’d said he wanted the day he told me he loved me.

We bought a house one street over from, Brookes in, Lakewood, and have been happy here since the day we moved in after returning from our honeymoon. The colonial, period style house may not have been in keeping with the other mini-mansions that surrounded it, but it suited us. It big enough that we can grow into it if we decided to have any more children, something that’s up in the air at the moment, but not too big that you need walkie-talkies to communicate with each other. My favorite part of the house, Rob’s too, is the huge, double-width porch which wraps around all four sides of the house. The only thing we changed was the addition of a porch swing, everything else has remained exactly as it was the day we bought it.

But the biggest change for us came when Rob decided it was time to leave, EyeSee and finally open the bar he’d always dreamed of. I handed him the deed to, Mulligan’s the day he officially finished up his last case, and he hasn’t looked back since. Don’t get me wrong, those first few months before opening the bar were tough, what with a six-week-old baby and a new business to get off the ground, but Rob took it all in his stride.

The bar, simply named, Leighton’s, officially opened to the public almost four years ago and has been doing a roaring trade ever since. It’s long hours, and the kids and I don’t see nearly enough of him, but Rob makes that up to us by making sure the time he is home is quality time. No interruptions. No work. Nothing but me, him, and our babies.

Wandering around the house picking up toys and sippy cups, turning off the lights as I go room-to-room surveying the damage, I grab the afghan off the back of the couch and make my way out the front door. When the kids are in bed, the house is quiet for the night, I often curl up on the porch swing waiting for Rob to get home. I can’t count on both hands the number of nights I’ve fallen asleep out here as the gentle breeze lulls me into a deep slumber, but if I had to hazard a guess; it would be a lot. As in, at least, three or four nights a week.

Tires crunch over gravel as Rob’s truck makes its way up the drive. Stopping in front of the house, parking dead center in the middle of the circular driveway, Rob is out of the driver’s side door pulling me into his arms before I have a chance to sit up. That’s one thing that’s never changed; Rob greets me every day with as much hunger and pent up passion as the day we agreed to become and us. And I love it.

“Hey, Sweetness. You and the kids have a good day? The house is still standing, so I take that to mean there weren’t any catastrophic meltdowns,” he grins, humor creasing the corners of his eyes.

“Nope. Everyone’s alive, the house hasn’t burned down, and I’m still as sane as I was when you left this morning, so I’m counting today as a win.”

“Hmm,” he mumbles, inhaling deeply as he shoves his face in the crook of my neck. But then, as if he hadn’t actually seen me when he pulled up, Rob takes a step back steadying me with his hands on my hips, his gaze running the length of my petite frame. “What are you wearing, Baby?”

Glancing down at my white, cotton maxi-dress, I scrunch up my nose, asking,

“You don’t like it? I bought it the other day because I thought you said you liked me in white. Something about it being virginal and turning you on if I remember correctly.”

“No, I fucking love it, Sweetness, I just haven’t seen you wear it before that’s all,” he replies, his voice dropping an octave. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Rob admits, “I had a dream once, years ago when we’d just gotten together, that I came home to you in a house that looked similar to this one, and you were wearing a dress like this one. I suppose it just threw me for a second. It was a long time ago, but I can still remember that dream like it was yesterday. You said…”

“Good, because you’re where you’re supposed to be, Rob. You’ve finally come home, Baby,” I whisper. Closing his eyes, Rob breathes a sigh of utter contentment, and that’s when I know I’ve done my job.

Two decades ago, I made a promise never to give up on a boy who needed a friend and a family to call his own. Five years later, I hadn’t given up but he had. Time slowed to a crawl, but I never forgot about the promise I made or the boy I made it to.

So, when a little over five years ago that same boy came back into my life, a man now, I fought to protect my heart knowing it was a losing battle from the very beginning. Now, I’m ecstatic I did, because the lost boy fighting demons that had no place in his life had completed mine.

And in return, I did everything I could to make his dreams come true.