Demi’s smile switches to a giggle when I makepew-pewnoises with my mouth while gesturing my head to the crotch of my pants—theextendedcrotch since I’m imagining firing blanks down Demi’s throat.
“A double business major and you still think of your cock as a pistol.” She rolls her eyes hoping it will stop her smile from ruining her ruse that she’s annoyed. “Forewarning, if you call your cock a doodle at any stage, I’m out.”
I chuckle until the entirety of her reply smacks into me. “Does that mean you’re in?”
Good gun safety is the last thing on my mind when the replenishing of Demi’s suddenly dry lips answers my question on her behalf. It’s not close to Christmas, but I’m reasonably sure all my Christmases are about to come at once.
11
Maddox
The clamminess of nightmare-coated skin makes my fingertip jut across Demi’s temple instead of smoothly sliding across it when I pull her hair back from her face. I’m still suffering nightmares like a soft cock who’s never had his dick sucked, but since they have nothing to do with Igor, and everything to do with the girl of my dreams dying before me, they don’t annoy me like they did after Igor’s death.
I hate waking up drenched in sweat and unable to breathe, but it only takes the quickest trace of Demi’s fingertips over the bumps in my midsection to remind me Dr. Falgar’s words were a ruse, a ploy to take Demi away from me. She’s here, in my family’s home, seemingly safe, but I’ll never truly believe she’s fully out of harm’s way until there are more than twenty miles between Hopeton and her.
“Stay asleep,” I whisper when Demi stirs. “I didn’t want to head out without saying goodbye.” I’ll never forgive myself for how I ran out on her that morning at the cabin. What if that had been the last time I saw her? I didn’t even say goodbye.
I smile against Demi’s lips when they find mine in the darkness of the night. She’s groggy from the late hour we crashed last night, and the sweaty mess I woke in altered my smell from the familiar shower gel slash Demi combination she’s used to, but she still finds my mouth no matter how poor the conditions.
“Please be careful,” she whispers over my lips, conscious it’s never too early for criminal activities.
“I will. I love you.”
“I love you back,” she murmurs through a yawn, stealing my line.
I weave my fingers through her dark hair for another two minutes before slipping into the hallway. I make it to the landing of the stairwell when a faint giggle stops me in my tracks. It’s five in the morning. It isn’t a giggle-appropriate hour.
With our house specifically designed for privacy, it doesn’t take me long to realize which room the giggle came from. The entire family is home for our parents’ wedding anniversary dinner, including Justine. Although she could be talking to one of the many suitors Landon, Caidyn, and Saint have yet to scare off, my gut is cautioning me not to be so stupid.
After praying like fuck Rocco is a patient man, I walk away from the staircase instead of galloping down it. Justine barely mumbles a syllable when I squash my ear up against her door. I assume that’s because the person she’s speaking with doesn’t let her get in a word—even more incriminating evidence that she’s talking to someone she shouldn’t be—but am proven wrong when her bedroom door flies open a couple of seconds later. Her bedroom light is off, and the chandelier above the stairwell is never turned off. She would have seen my shadow under the door.
“It’s impolite to eavesdrop on private conversations.” She strays her eyes to a door that’s rarely open—the door to my childhood bedroom. “I thought you’d know that better than anyone.”
Since her voice is more pitched with amusement than anger, I get cheeky. “I do. Why do you think I bought everyone noise-canceling headphones for Christmas?”
When she misses the punch line, Justine rolls her eyes. “You lived at the cabin when you bought those. That’s miles from here.”
She looks torn between gagging and high-fiving me when I say, “Trust me, a stallion’s neighs can be heard for miles. Even Caidyn won’t deny that.”
When I gallop like a horse, she socks me in the stomach. Her movements cause the screen of her cell phone to illuminate, exposing she didn’t end her call, she merely took an intermission. “You’re disturbing.”
“Says the person who’s up before the sparrows being sweet-talked into a booty call. Is that Brax?”
Justine puts moreoomphinto her hit this time around. “No, it isn’t Brax, and it also isn’t a booty call.” She whispers her words, not only to ensure the rest of her overbearing brothers don’t hear her but her caller as well. The way she covered the speaker with her hand is a sure-fire sign of this, much less her white-knuckle grip. “It’s a friend.”
“A friend?Right.” I’m about to demand she hand over her phone, but a brilliant idea pops into my head long before Justine’s frustrated screams can come close to waking the dead. “If it’sjust a friend, then they won’t mind you calling them back in a couple of hours. I need a favor.”
“Youneedmyhelp?”
I take a moment to relish the shock in her voice before jerking up my chin. I had planned to do a run for Dimitri before spending the remainder of my morning working on the surprise I’m planning for Demi, but I’m willing to switch things up if it has Justine dissing her caller.
After holding her finger in the air, requesting a minute, Justine squashes her cell phone against her ear. “Can I call you back?” She sheepishly peers at me through thick lashes before saying, “Everything’s fine. He just needs my help with something.” I can’t hear the person she’s talking to, but I know it’s a man. Justine doesn’t do gaga eyes at anyone but our father, but whatever her caller replies with has her eyes gleaming with more than happiness. “I will. Bye.”
I begin to doubt my theory when the lowering of her phone from her ear has me spotting the length of her call. She’s been talking for over four hours. I don’t care how in touch with your feminine side you are, no guy talks for four hours straightunlessthey’re desperate for a piece of the pie.
I swallow down the vomit scorching my throat when Justine asks if she has time to change. “I’ll wait for you out front.”
Confident I have an easy ten minutes to waste, I take the stairs one at a time instead of galloping down them like I usually do. As prearranged, Rocco meets me by the side gate. He’s dressed like his day is only starting, even with the rings under his eyes saying otherwise. After tossing my gym bag into my chest, he says, “Same deal as yesterday, except I need you to weigh the bricks today. Quantities are right, but the bricks seem a little light.”
