Barefoot in Lace (Barefoot Bay Brides Book 2) (31 page)

“Your room?”

“Yes.” He added pressure with his hips. “It’s the most secluded, and the bed is big and I want you there.” It was a simple truth, and she didn’t have to know how monumental it was for him to feel that way. “What do you want, Gussie?”

She looked a little surprised by the directness of the question. “I have what I want right now.”

He stared at her, but she backed away at the sound of footsteps. Luke stepped into the kitchen, his face relaxed, his wineglass raised in a toast. “You’re a nice couple,” he said. “I think Mom will approve. I’m going back to my apartment, Gus. Will you walk me down to the street?”

“You promise you’ll be back tomorrow?” she asked.

“If tomorrow comes.”

Gussie laughed. “What kind of defeatist attitude is that, Luke?”

“Realist, not defeatist.” He reached out to shake Tom’s hand. “Thanks for the sneak attack this morning, my man. You proved you really love my sister, and for that reason, I won’t kill you for kissing her.”

Tom blinked at him, a denial on his lips that simply wouldn’t come out. But Gussie was smiling when she left. Of course she was. She had everything she wanted.

* * *

Gussie walked with Luke to the door and down to the street to say good-bye.

“You could stay here, Luke, and crash on the couch.”

“Or I could sleep in your room since you’ll be shacked up with your boyfriend.”

“He’s not. And he doesn’t love me.”

Luke snorted. “I thought you were smarter than that, Gus.”

“I am and you’re wrong. We, you know, like each other.”

“No, I don’t know.”

“No one in your life, Luke? Never been in love?”

He gave a dry laugh. “You definitely don’t know about life in the Legion. I’m alone, and that’s all that matters.”

She grunted. “Oh, you men and your need to be alone. How does this world even procreate with a generation of isolation junkies?”

“Look, sis, forget me. Your issue’s upstairs waiting for you in bed.”

“We’ve never slept together,” she fired back.

He made an
I’m impressed
face. “Mom will like that.”

“Yet.”

Laughing, he put an arm around her. “Brotherly advice?”

“I guess.”

“Seize the day, or the night, as it might be. You never know what’s going to happen. So live for this day, this moment, this feeling. ’Cause you could be numb or dead when the sun comes up.”

“Wow, that’s a pretty miserable way to look at the world.”

“The world is miserable,” he shot back. “My advice is have some fun, and stop trying to fight whatever you’re trying to fight. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My heart could get stomped on.”

“Oh, it will. But that’s how you know you’re alive.”

She scowled up at him, reaching to touch his face. “What happened to you, Luke? What made you so bitter and fatalistic?”

“I’m not bitter or fatalistic. I told you, I’m a realist. And that guy up there? He’s a pretty real dude, too. And he likes you. In fact, I’m sure he’s more afraid of you than you are of him.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, fluffing her hair, but letting his fingers brush lightly over the scar she’d been beginning to forget was there. “You turned out real good, Gus. I’m glad to see that.”

With that, he was gone, leaving Gussie unexpectedly torn in two.

* * *

Back upstairs, Annie and her kids were letting themselves into their own apartment, and they all shared a quick hug.

When the kids said good night, Annie lingered in the doorway, leaning close to Gussie to whisper, “Check on Alex when you have a sec, luv.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s been a bit off today. Haven’t you noticed?”

“I noticed she was quiet, but not during charades. She had a blast.”

“Who wouldn’t with your dazzling brother?”

He was dazzling, even now, after fifteen years, Luke still captivated everyone around him. “I guess I’ve been so focused on him, I didn’t give Alex my usual attention. Is she with Tom now?”

“She went to bed as soon as you walked out.”

And Gussie knew why; she hadn’t mentioned their conversation to Tom yet. How could she with a day like today? Still, she gave Annie an impulsive kiss. “You’re a good friend already. How does that happen?”

“It’s you, dear.” She laughed. “You fold people into your arms and heart, and they never want to leave.”

The compliment warmed her right down to her toes. “Gosh, Annie, thanks.” She laughed. “Except Tom, who might want to be in my arms, but he surely will want to leave.”

Annie drew back and gave her a serious look. “He’s struggling as much as you and Alex,” she said. “All that dreamy bachelorhood about to go down the loo.”

But he hadn’t always been a bachelor. She shook her head, not ready, willing, or even free to share his story. “If only it were that easy,” she said instead. Adding an impulsive hug, she slipped back into the apartment to check on Alex.

Tom was quietly cleaning up the rest of the kitchen, waiting expectantly when she entered. “You done for the night, Pink?”

“Actually, I’m going to check on Alex.”

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked, frowning.

She hesitated a moment, not at all prepared to tell him that his niece not only didn’t want his guardianship, she wanted Gussie’s. The conversation would be hurtful and horrible and, honestly, the idea was unrealistic. After the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on today, she simply couldn’t bear to dive into something that heavy.

“She’s been a little weird all day,” she said, purposefully vague.

“Damn it, I didn’t even notice.” He put up his hands in frustration. “How can I miss something like that?”

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “But really sweet that you care.”

“I do care,” he insisted.

“I didn’t notice, either,” Gussie admitted. “I was all focused on my brother.”

“Which is understandable,” he said. “He’s your long-lost brother, but I should be more in tune with her.” He set down his dishtowel. “I’m going to talk to her.”

And Alex might bring up the whole topic of guardianship. At the very least, Gussie should be there. “I’ll come with you.”

“That’s a good idea. I can learn from an expert.”

She slipped her hand into his, and they walked down the hall together, a weird, buzzy feeling between them. It wasn’t just attraction—that was always there. It wasn’t that they had a joint mission—they both cared about Alex, so it made sense. It was more like…

This is what family did. What parents did. What two people who loved a third and made a unit—

“Gussie.” He stopped her before the door. “What’s the matter with you?”

She didn’t dare blink, because her eyes had filled. Along with her heart. God, she wanted this so much. She wanted this to be real, not a freecation.

“I’m worried about her, that’s all.”

He slipped his arm around her and tapped on the door with his free hand. “We got this,” he whispered.

Which only made it worse.

“I’m asleep.”

“Funny, you sound awake,” Gussie said.

“I’m tired, Gussie.” But the slight hiccup gave away the truth. She was crying.

Sharing a quick look, Gussie nodded and Tom turned the knob, and the light instantly clicked off. The bedclothes rustled as she feigned sleep.

“What do you want?” Alex asked. “Why are you both here?”

“Because we both are worried about you,” Tom said, his voice as gentle as Gussie had ever heard it.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound fine,” Gussie said, going to sit on the edge of the twin bed. She reached for Alex’s cheek, but the girl whipped to the side and Gussie barely grazed her. It was enough to feel the tears.

“Why are you crying?” Gussie asked.

“Why do you think?”

“You miss your mom,” Tom said, coming up behind Gussie and putting strong hands on her shoulders, the support so real and welcome.

“Actually, not this very minute.”

“In other words, you’re crying about something else,” Tom said.

She didn’t answer, which meant yes.

“Too dark for charades. Should we do twenty questions?” Gussie suggested. When there was more silence, she took a stab. “Did one of us do something to upset you?”

In the bit of moonlight in the room, Gussie could see Alex turn to face them, looking from one to the other, her eyes wide. As if she thought it was weird that they came in together, too. Weird and a little wonderful.

Alex and Gussie were on the same page there.

“How about that boy?” Tom said, making Gussie smile at the Dad-like tone in his voice.

“Eddie’s fine,” she said with a sniff. “And so’s Lizzie.”

Gussie thought for a minute, stumped. “Then what is it? Are you homesick? Physically sick? Reading a sad book?”

Alex sighed. “It was Luke.”

“Luke?” Gussie startled at the unexpected answer. “My brother made you cry?”

Alex shot up and reached for the light, the sudden brightness making them all blink but instantly revealing how hard Alex had been weeping.

“Why couldn’t he have been my dad?” she burst out. “I mean, first, he shows up, and I was sure…I was so sure that when we walked in he was going to, like, throw his arms around me and say, ‘Alex! My daughter!’” She swiped at snot and tears, her eyes fierce with sadness and shame.

“Oh, Alex.” Gussie sat on the bed to hug her, totally and completely understanding why she would have thought that. “I’m sorry you thought that’s who he was.”

She pushed back, shuddering on a sob and clearly ready to let it all out now. “And then he has to be so nice. And funny. And everyone loves him.”

Gussie gave a dry laugh. “He was born that way.”

“Well, why can’t I have a father like that? Or…” She looked up. “An uncle?”

Ouch
.

Tom’s grip on Gussie’s shoulders tightened a little. “Don’t think I’ll ever play charades that well.”

The poor attempt at humor in the face of harsh criticism nearly folded Gussie in half. Alex was wrong, and the comment wasn’t fair. She reached up to put her hand over Tom’s in solidarity.

“Listen, Alex, I know that a strange man arriving here and the way he looked—I totally get that you might have had that moment of joy, only to have it fall apart into disappointment. That’s a real pain, and you’re entitled to feel it. But you’re not entitled to insult and compare and hurt your uncle.” She leaned forward, getting close to Alex’s teary face, trying to capture her thoughts so they had the most impact and effect on Alex.

“Let me tell you as a woman who has had and lost a family in a lifetime, a person who comes into your life and is willing and able and ready to love you to the best of his or her ability—whether they are related by blood or not—is a gift from God. Accept it graciously, honey. No matter if it’s exactly what you wanted or not. It’s what you have.”

Alex stared at her, and after a long moment, she lifted her gaze to meet Tom’s. “Sorry,” she said.

“S’okay, kid. Luke’s a great guy, and think of it this way, now you have two uncles.”

Gussie’s heart flipped. What did he mean by that?

Alex didn’t quite get the full unspoken message, but she seemed appeased—and maybe that’s why he said that—and tired. She nodded and reached out to hug Gussie. She even let Tom kiss her on the cheek.

Gussie tucked the blanket under Alex’s chin, turned the light out, and walked to the door where Tom waited.

She took each breath slowly, stepping into the hall as he closed the door.

“What did you—”

Silently, he leaned her into the wall and kissed away the question. And any comments, teasing, or discussion about what just happened.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he whispered gruffly. “Not for one more minute.” He lifted her a little off the floor, scooped his arm under her knees, and started carrying her to the opposite end of the apartment.

Chapter Twenty-five

He might have kicked the door too hard and snapped the lock with too much force. Didn’t care. He might have hit the bed with too much pressure. Whatever. He might have had a little more finesse, but all that would come sometime, next time, later, when he wasn’t crazed with the need to explore and examine and excite every inch of Gussie.

And no “might” about it, Tom definitely heard a seam tear as he furiously worked to get them both undressed, but he didn’t give a crap. If he paused to so much as whisper a word to Gussie, then he’d start to think. Right now, he did not want to think.

He wanted to feel. Close. Warm. Naked. Gussie. He wanted dear, sweet, funny, sexy Gussie to be all his in the most intimate way, and from the way she was kissing, touching, and stripping, the feeling was utterly mutual.

By the time they were naked on the sheets, both were breathing too hard and kissing too much and moaning too often to talk or think or second-guess their actions.

He flicked his tongue along her jaw and throat, his hands already at home on her breasts and stomach. Under his lips, he heard her groan and whimper, nails lightly scraping his back as they rolled over and found their fit. Which was perfect.

Everything was perfect.

And then she dragged her fingers down his abdomen and closed her hands over him with a feminine sound of pure, raw satisfaction and appreciation. Like she’d been yearning to touch him.

Fire shot from one end of his hard-on to the other, agonizing and fierce, forcing him to rock into her fist and damn near howl with the intensity of the feeling.

He eased out of her touch and pinned her arms so she couldn’t have him shooting off like a desperate teenager in a minute. Instead, he concentrated on kissing her, tasting every curve and dip and slope he could find.

But he needed his hands to touch, and when he released her, she instantly clutched his head, digging into his hair, guiding his mouth from pleasure point to pleasure point.

Her sighs, her scent, her every move shot more blood and need into him, making him harder and hungrier.

“Too good,” she murmured, lifting her hips so he could suckle her belly button. “Too good.”

“Don’t worry,” he laughed into a kiss. “Nothing’s too good, Pink.” He proved that by feathering more kisses, lower and lower, until his tongue touched that one single point of perfection, and she gasped.