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Foxy in Lingerie Page 9
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Hesitation was in Max’s eyes when he looked at me. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No. He wants to keep it from me, which is unlike him. He usually tells me everything.”
“I think he’s embarrassed.”
“Bones?” I asked incredulously. “He’s never embarrassed.”
“Maybe ashamed is the better word, then.”
I stepped closer to him so we could share whispered secrets. “What happened, Max?”
He looked down the hallway again, to check if Bones was coming. “The only reason I’m telling you is because I want you to understand how low this guy was. He didn’t brush off your breakup like it never happened. So when you go back to your family, you better make sure he’s receiving every bit of respect he deserves.”
“Of course.” I would never allow my family to call him trash ever again.
“When you left, he stayed home and avoided everyone. He never went out. He drank a lot. About a month after you broke up, his drinking got worse. He was on the verge of alcohol poisoning when he crashed his truck into a pole. He was taken to the hospital and treated. He was banged up, but also lucky.”
My hand immediately flew into my hair then slid down my neck. I massaged the tense muscles along the back of my neck, feeling the kinks of stress. A gasp escaped under my breath, and my chest ached as I tried to breathe. “No…”
“He got clean for a while, until he was able to trust himself again. But those three months were really difficult for him. He worked a lot because that was the only thing that could take his mind off you. But when he wasn’t working, he was drinking. Women weren’t around, so he didn’t have that as a distraction.”
I’d pictured Bones with all the women who’d slept in his bed after I left. When I’d touched the sheets, a part of me wondered how many women had been in that exact spot. I’d tried not to focus on it, knowing Bones had every right to do whatever he wanted, but it killed me all the same. Hearing this revelation chased away the acid that burned in my stomach. “What do you mean, women weren’t around?”
“I mean it exactly as it sounds,” he said. “He wasn’t with anyone when you were apart.”
I couldn’t wipe the surprise from my face. So much relief washed through me, like a river cleansing my veins.
“He didn’t tell you that either?”
I shook my head. “I never asked. I didn’t want to know.”
“Well, now you know. At the end of the three months, he said he needed some closure, so he drove to Florence to see you. I told him not to go, told him it was a stupid idea, but he went anyway. A part of him had hoped that you would somehow convince your father to accept him, and when that didn’t happen, he struggled to let go.”
I hung on to every word. “Did he go?”
He nodded. “He stopped outside your gallery and saw you with your boyfriend.” He didn’t stare at me with accusation, but he didn’t give me a friendly look either.
“Oh no…”
“He watched you two hold hands and look at your paintings. Then he drove off and came back here.”
“No.” I covered my face with both of my palms, humiliated that Bones had known about Antonio the entire time. He saw us together and probably made the wrong conclusions, that I was sleeping with someone else, that I was in love with someone else. I pulled my hands off my face and then stiffened. “Wait…he saw me with someone else, and he still helped my family?” I gave Max an incredulous look, unable to believe what I was hearing. “After everything my family did to him? After seeing me with someone else?”
He shrugged. “I said the same thing to him, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was you.”
I ran my hand through my hair as I stared at Max. I looked into his eyes without really seeing him, only feeling his expression stare back at me. Just when I felt a moment of happiness, it was taken away from me. Bones had always loved me, had loved me in a way no one else ever had. My father said he wanted me to be with a man who would love me more than he did…and Bones had always been that person. The time we spent apart never should have happened.
We always should have been together.
“I hate to be rude, Max, but could you leave?”
He smiled then winked. “I’m on it.” He walked into the elevator then disappeared.
I headed down the hallway, my heart beating just as fast as the first time I saw Bones in that hospital room. I never doubted my love for him, and I knew he never doubted his love for me. Antonio was a man who was better suited for me, and Bones was the worst possible choice for a husband, but that didn’t matter. I loved him with my whole heart, wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, and I would never let anyone break us apart ever again.
I stepped into his office and saw him stacking the last of his rifles inside the hard silver case. He was wearing a black t-shirt with black jeans, and his fair skin contrasted against the dark color, but his ink matched it too. He shut the lid and locked it before his eyes moved up to meet my expression. It seemed like he was going to say something, but when he saw the look on my face, he changed his mind. A rigid expression came over his features, and he watched me with intensity, waiting for me to make my move. He had no idea what I was thinking or what had triggered my deep reaction, but he knew it was something.
He lowered his hands to his sides and kept staring at me.
My eyes filled with moisture, impending tears that I never asked for. They coated my eyes and slightly blurred my vision. There was no reason to cry, not when I should only be happy. But Bones never failed to surprise me, to shock me to my very core. He was the first one to admit he loved me, and he’d said it without shame or hesitation. He didn’t care about the stakes. He didn’t care about the wrath of my family. He didn’t care about the gun my father pointed in his face. Bones stood by me from the beginning, being the most loyal man I’d ever known. His past was irrelevant when he had become such a noble person. His father had caused a deep rift in my family, but Griffin changed his legacy by becoming a man who earned my father’s respect—which was nearly impossible.
Bones grew tired of the silence. “Baby.” He could issue wordless orders and ask me questions with just that phrase. When we communicated with our minds, words weren’t necessary. Throughout our relationship, talking had never been one of our strongest points, not when we spoke to one another in other ways.
I came around his desk, watching him stare at me with his formidable eyes. I moved into his body, pushed my hands underneath his shirt and up his hard stomach, and then rose onto my tiptoes to give him a soft kiss on the lips. When I felt his mouth, the tears came loose. They rolled down my cheeks and landed on my lips so we both could taste the salt.
He didn’t circle his arms around my waist, and he kissed me with his eyes open, watching every reaction that I made.
I pulled back and looked at him, unable to think of the right words to express the way I felt. It was difficult to organize my thoughts when I could only think of my emotions. “Max told me everything.” I rested my forehead against his chin, my eyes looking at his powerful chest. “He told me about your crash…”
He inhaled a deep breath, the annoyance heavy in the sound of his breathing.
“And he told me there was never anyone else…” My thumbs moved along the deep grooves of his stomach, feeling the riverbeds between the valleys. “I was too afraid to ask because I didn’t want to hear the answer.”
Bones said nothing, his arms still by his sides.
“I’m so sorry that I hurt you…” I was sorry he had seen me with Antonio, seeing something that wasn’t really there. I was sorry my family had ripped us apart. I was sorry I didn’t try harder to keep us together. “And after everything…even when you thought I was with someone else…you still took that bullet for my father.” I took a deep breath before I lifted my chin to meet his gaze.
He stared down at me, thick like a tree trunk and still like a statue. “You shouldn’t be surprised, baby. Don’t ev
er be surprised. I will guard you with my life. I will protect you as long as I live. I will chase away your nightmares every night. I’ll keep you warm in the dead of winter. I will be the monster that everyone fears—but I will be your monster.”
“You aren’t a monster…you’re a kind and wonderful man.”
He wiped away another tear with the pad of his thumb. “Let that be our secret.” His thumb moved to my bottom lip and swiped across it, rubbing the tear across my mouth.
“That night you saw me with Antonio—”
“I don’t care about him. He was just a distraction, a boy to make you forget about a man. Even if you did sleep with him, it wouldn’t make a difference to me. Because he is nothing compared to me. He is nothing to us. He never had a chance because he could never erase me. But I can erase him.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that. I’m the man you love, and I will be the only man that you ever love. Your body, soul, and heart all belong to me. I won the battle, and I conquered the Barsettis. It’s not the revenge I wanted, but I got something so much better in the end—you. The daughter of my greatest enemy is now mine. Every broken bone, every drunken night, and every pain was worth it. It was all worth it to have you. So don’t speak of the past ever again. Don’t ever speak that boy’s name to me again. Don’t ever remind me how dark those three months were. All I want is the future—the quiet and simple future we’ve always talked about.”
Eleven
Conway
The double doors to the terrace were open, illuminating the bedroom with natural light. Birds sang from the trees surrounding the house, chirping quietly as they enjoyed the summer sun. There was a gentle breeze, fragrant with the smell of grapes and olives. This place had always been peaceful to me, surrounded by hillsides and vineyards. My parents used to sit outside together on the back porch and drink wine while my sister and I worked on homework in the sitting room. There was something about the place that made me feel comfortable, that brought me a strong sense of peace.
I didn’t want to come here originally, not when I felt like a burden to everyone. But the truth was, I felt safe there. With my father watching the property and my uncle just down the road, it was the safest place Muse and I could be.
Since I was unable to take care of my wife, I didn’t feel like such an asshole when my mother could help her with what she needed. I was on bed rest because of my broken ribs, which would take a few weeks to heal. I could move around, but it always gave me a jolt of pain. Going down the stairs was the worst. So I spent most of my time lying down or sitting. My injury didn’t stop my wife from straddling my hips every night, so I still got the satisfaction I needed. Seeing her pregnant belly and swollen tits as she moved up and down was such an erotic sight.
I think I preferred her body when she was pregnant.
I was sitting up in bed with my laptop across my thighs while Muse sat in the chair beside me reading a book. She was in a white summer dress, a loose-fitting silk that gave her stomach ample room. Her hair was pulled back to reveal her pretty face, and every few minutes, she rubbed her hand across her large belly, feeling our child kick.
I set my laptop aside and stared at her, wondering if we were having a girl or a boy. The doctor knew, but we said we didn’t want to know. When the baby arrived, we wanted to be surprised.
I preferred a boy over a girl, but not because having a son to carry my name was important to me. Having seen men gawk at women all my life, and after being a player myself, I didn’t want my daughter to be the target of assholes like that. Having a beautiful sister was hard enough.
Having a daughter would be a million times harder.
When Muse noticed my stare, she looked at me. “Need anything?”
“No.” Despite the peaceful landscape, I was growing restless with inactivity. My face started to look much better now that the swelling and bruising were nearly gone. It’d been two weeks since that horrific evening, and Muse was still having nightmares every night.
“You’re staring at me, so it seems like you need something.”
“Yes. I need to stare at you.”
A soft smile moved over her lips before she turned back to her book.
With the Tuscan sun brightening the color of her dress and her hair, she looked like an image from one of Vanessa’s paintings. “You’re gorgeous, Muse.”
A slight tint entered her cheeks before she looked at me, her eyes soft. “Thanks, Con…”
“I could look at you forever.”
A knock sounded on our door. “Can we come in?” Mama’s voice reached our ears.
“Of course.” Muse set her book down and opened the bedroom door. “I was reading, and Conway was doing some work on his laptop.”
Mama carried my lunch to the bed and set the tray down. “Lars made salmon in a bed of quinoa and a side salad along with an iced tea.” She positioned the tray over my lap then placed the glass on the nightstand.
Every time my mother brought me anything, I felt worthless. I didn’t like watching her wait on me, not when she’d done enough work raising me. I should be waiting on her hand and foot, not the other way around. “Thanks, Mama.”
She examined my face like she did every day, just the way she used to when I was a sick boy with a fever. She placed her hand against my forehead to feel my temperature.
I wanted to push her hand off and tell her she was being ridiculous, but after everything she’d been through, seeing her only son in a hospital bed with a bruised face and broken ribs, I let her get her way. “I’m fine, Mama.”
“Just checking.” She ran her fingers through my hair, staring at me like I was still a little boy. She hadn’t looked at me that way in a long time. She usually treated me like a grown man, respecting me as an adult and not treating me like I was delicate. But the second I was hurt, she seemed to regress. “You look a lot better, but I still worry. Do you need anything else? It’s almost time for another painkiller, but we can probably give it to you now.”
“Really, I’m fine.” I patted her arm.
Mama finally turned to Sapphire. “How about you, sweetheart? Do you need anything? Are you ready for lunch?”
“No thanks, Pearl,” she said. “I’ve been having morning sickness today, and I just don’t have an appetite.”
“I understand,” Mama said. “But you should eat something soon.”
“I will.” Muse rubbed her hand across her stomach.
Father came to me when my mother was out of the way. He sat at the edge of the bed, making the mattress dip slightly with his weight. He came out of the fight unscathed so he looked exactly the same as he used to, but the pain of my disfigurement was written in his eyes. “How are you doing, Con?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just want to get out of this bed and move around.”
“You’ll get there,” he said. “And if you don’t, your mother and I have loved having you around. Stay as long as you like.”
It was a comfortable place to stay, but I was eager to get back to reality. I missed fucking my wife as loud as I wanted. I missed taking care of her. I missed not having my mother bring me food. “Thanks, Father. You guys have been wonderful to both of us.”
“Yes, it’s been very relaxing,” Muse said. “I’ve been so worried about Conway, and it’s nice to know I have someone to help me take care of him.”
I didn’t want my wife taking care of me either, not when she was nearly eight months pregnant. I wanted to wait on her around the clock, to get her ice cream in the middle of the night then rub her back so she could fall asleep. But my parents had been doing all the heavy lifting, driving her to doctor’s appointments and making sure she took all her vitamins when she was supposed to.
Even if I wasn’t completely back to full health when the baby arrived, I wouldn’t care. I was going to be in that delivery room. I was going to hold my son or daughter. I was going to drive them home from the hospital. I refused to let anyone else do those things. “Have you heard from Vanessa? Is
she in Florence yet?”
“No,” Father said with sadness. “Haven’t talked to her.”
Mama cleared her throat. “She’s busy. She’ll call when she gets a chance.”
My father was a constant worrier, and the mention of Vanessa made him fidgety. “Maybe I should call her. I just want to check in and make sure she’s alright. It’s been two weeks.”
“Crow.” Mama flashed him an irritated look. “No.”
“I won’t be on the phone with her long,” Father said. “I just want to know—”
“No,” she repeated. “The last thing she wants to do is talk to her parents right now. She needs space, Crow. Give her space.”
“You don’t think two weeks is space?” he asked incredulously. “How’s Griffin’s shoulder? Is he doing alright? Are they right down the road? Can I visit them? That’s all I want to know. Two weeks is long enough.”
Mama continued to glare at him.
I’d rarely seen my parents fight. I wouldn’t really consider this a fight, but it seemed like it could easily turn into one.
“Look,” Mama said. “I don’t want to say this so bluntly, but your daughter has been reunited with the man she loves. She wants privacy, Crow. Catch my drift?”
Father immediately dropped his look, like he didn’t want to acknowledge what she’d just said.
“She’ll call when she’s ready to talk to us,” Mama continued. “And after everything that has happened, they deserve this time together. They aren’t thinking about anyone but themselves right now—which is perfectly fine.”
Father still didn’t look at her, clearly uncomfortable by the subject. “What if I text her?”
Mama rolled her eyes. “Forget it, I give up.” She turned to me next. “I’m glad you’re like your father, but don’t be too much like him.”
I glanced at Muse then looked away. “I think it’s too late for that.”