Love Brewing (Love Brothers #3) (20 page)

But exhaustion bowled him over like a tidal wave. It
happened that way when he went this long not medicated. The highs were
Everest-level. But when the lows threatened, they were prefaced by the sort of
bone-deep tiredness that hovered right now. He had to get home, drink half a
bottle of bourbon, take some pain killers and pass out before it got worse.

They roared up to the building and dismounted. A female
figure lurked near his door leaning against her car, unclear at first in the
gloom.

“Oh, uh, hey Chris.” He glanced down to gauge Jace’s
reaction to the unexpected company.

Jace peered at the woman, then up at Dom. “Is this the
skanky bitch who got your job, Daddy?” He fluttered his long, dark eyelashes at
the woman. Dom gave the kid a mental high-five.

The woman frowned, then held out a carton of some kind of
frozen treat. Jace brightened and snatched it from her. “Hi there, Jace. I’m
Chris. I’m your daddy’s boss and I’m here to have a meeting with him.”

“Oh, okay.” Jace ran to the apartment door, the dessert
clutched to his chest. Chris smiled and followed him, her hips swaying in a way
that forced thoughts of whiskey and aspirin right out of Dom’s lizard brain.

He unlocked the door. Jace snagged a spoon and jumped onto
the couch gaze already fixed on the TV, joined by his mutt, who kept his gaze
on the ice cream carton.

“Meeting time, brew boy,” Chris muttered, tugging him close
and covering his lips with hers. He slid his fingers into her hair, tasting
every corner of her mouth, his body hardening immediately. Another bonus being
chemical-free, he mused, as she pressed him against the wall and palmed his
erection under his shorts. “I see you’re prepared.”

“Got that right,” he growled, picking her up and carrying
her past the oblivious boy and throwing her onto his messy bed. “Better take
some notes, boss.” He slammed the door and ripped at her clothes before
dropping down between her legs. He woke with her pressed against him, the dog
licking his nose and Jace poking his arm with the spoon.

“I’m scared,” the boy’s voice verged on the edge of a panic
attack.

“Yo, Chris, time to head out.” He shoved the woman off him.
“Unless you want to cuddle my kid.”

She yawned and stretched, pissing him off with her lack of
modesty in front of the impressionable boy. “All right. I think we covered all
the agenda items.” She gripped his dick under the covers. He winced. “Until
next time,” she said, getting up and heading naked into his bathroom.

Dom rubbed his face and wondered if he could head off Jace’s
impending night terrors and still be able to get to sleep. At this rate, the
way his head raced from one thought to another, he’d never rest.

But by the time he’d dragged Jace high up in the mountains
to locate a little powder and taken several slopes with the boy the next
day—plus flirted his ever-loving ass off with some tourist chick from L.A—he
felt revived and ready to manage his life again. The quick and dirty fuck he’d
gifted himself with the accommodating girl while Jace did his final run alone
helped set him on an even keel.

Who needed medication when there was plenty of pussy around,
eager to take off his edge?

One Year Later

“Daddy,” the voice called from so far away Dom heard it in
his dream. He rolled, groaning when a shaft of sunlight blinded him. Dragging the
blanket up over his naked flesh proved too strenuous so he draped over the warm
body to his left. It shifted and his palm landed on a boob. The woman attached
to it grabbed his dick. He sucked in a breath of stale, pot-smoked tinged air.

“Daddy!”

He shoved Chris off him and dropped his feet to the floor.
“What are you still doing here?”

“Oh, don’t be a whiner. You weren’t complaining last night
when I let you ass-fuck me, you nasty boy.” She flicked the rings in his
nipples. “C’mon, baby. Bring it over here for me again.”

“Get off,” he roared, shoving her harder than he meant to.
His vision had gotten so sharp he could discern the texture of paint on the
opposite wall, and he honestly believed he could hear the ubiquitous
cockroaches marching between the walls. “Goddamn, my head hurts. What was in
that stuff?” He gagged at the smell of the ashtray stuffed with roaches mixed
with the bourbon he must have spilled from the bottle lying on the floor.

“Daddy, we’re gonna be late!” Jace shoved the door open, clutching
his basketball. Chris pulled the blanket over her head with a loud curse. Jace
frowned at him, his lower lip stuck out.

“Sorry, dude, sorry.” Dom stumbled into the bathroom and
jumped into the shower. “Go home, Chris. I mean it.”

She stuck her tongue out at him through the glass, and
wandered back into the bedroom. By the time he dried off and found clean
shorts, he smelled bacon cooking. Mumbling under his breath while trying to get
the ringing in his ears to leave him in peace, he poured a cup of coffee and
flopped into a kitchen chair. The fact of her in his kitchen, acting like some
kind of Suzie-fucking-Homemaker infuriated him. She’d gotten way too clingy in
ways he couldn’t really manage, considering for all intents and purposes the
bitch was his boss. The last year had been an utter blur since Chris’ promotion
and he’d been swept along in the tidal wave of it, letting it carry him and
Jace along in its scary, yet seemingly uncontrollable wake.

“You know, you can cut out the mothering act, Chris. You’re
not fooling anybody.”

“Your phone is blowing up,
dear
.” She dropped it into
his lap with an air kiss.

He winced. “What the hell did you do to me last night
anyway?”

She licked her finger and stuck it in his ear, making Jace
giggle. “Your daddy is not a morning person, is he, champ?” She plunked a plate
of bacon in the middle of the table and brandished the spatula. “Scrambled
eggs? Fried?”

Dom glared at her.

“Don’t like eggs,” Jace declare around a mouthful of bacon.
“Like pancakes.”

“You asked him.” Dom frowned down at all the missed calls
from a familiar number.

“Daddy, we are s’posed to play basketball. I gotta work on
my hook shot some more ’member?”

“Hang on, hang on.” He put the phone to his ear, panic
fluttering through his chest. “Hey,” he said when Kieran answered. “What’s up,
Francis?”

“Your namesake has made his grand appearance.”

Dom smiled and shoved the dog off the couch so he could sit.
“Cool. Send me a picture? How’s the baby-mama? Make her legal yet?”

“About to. I wish you were here for it.”

“Yeah.” He swiped at his lips, still tasting pot and booze.
“I’ll make it home eventually. Maybe.” He looked up at the ceiling, taking in
the minute cracks and fissures in the cheap drywall.

“Taking your meds still, right?”

“Leave me alone.” He rose, unable to sit another minute. The
ants-under-the-skin feeling was back in force, reminding him he’d likely be
facing a hard crash in the next twenty-four hours. Managing his way down lows
with booze and pot had become a habit he didn’t like, mainly because he lost
track of time. He usually managed to have Jace set up for a babysitter when he
could anticipate it.

“Congrats, dude. Seriously. Give the kid a kiss for me,
lucky bastard, sharing my name and all. Gotta go.” He hung up and tossed the phone
onto Jace’s bean bag video game-playing chair, dropped to the floor and did
fifty push-ups, then fifty sit-ups, and then repeated the process twice more.

Sweaty and winded, he sat, arms on his knees, pondering all
the places he hurt at that moment, and deciding the pain in his chest after
hearing Kieran’s voice was definitely the worst. A flying, Jace-shaped missile
attacked him from behind, making him grunt, then romp around the living room,
wearing the kid as a cape until the dog got so excited it pissed on the carpet.

“Eww, gross.” Jace ran to the kitchen to grab paper towels.
“Daddy,” he fake-whispered as the two of them mopped up the mess. “She’s
smoking
in the kitchen.”

“I know. Sorry. She’s nasty. Did you finish eating?”

Jace nodded.

“All right then, hook-shot time.”

“What about her?” Jace wrinkled up his nose.

“She’ll figure out we’re gone soon enough.”

They headed home as the sun was setting, having spent two
hours at the gym, another two at the ice rink slamming pucks into a vacant net,
and a couple more playing putt-putt golf. Dominic really thought he ought to
get father-of-the-year awards for today’s activity. But as they headed for
home, he took the hand Jace had gripping the front of his T-shirt and held onto
it, loving the warmth and praying that his heart rate would slow. When they
rounded the final curve before the apartment complex, he heard Jace marvel at
the amazing mountain views, which at that hour were a glorious mix of orange,
purple and pink.

“Daddy, the sky looks like a bruise.”

“Huh, how about that.” Dom shouldered his backpack, already
antsy about having to stay put that night. “Listen, dude, I think I may go out
later. Which sitter d’ya want me to call?”

“No sitter. Stay home.”

Dom heard the petulant toddler-tone Jace could flip on and
off like a water faucet. When he attempted to steer the kid into the apartment,
Jace ducked him, already headed into pout mode. Dom unlocked the door, letting
the dog do its
oh-my-God-I-thought-you-had-left-me-forever
freak out all
over the place, complete with a hair explosion they’d have to clean at some
point. Jace stomped past him into the living room and flopped onto the couch in
a huff.

Sensing dissension among the troops, Skywalker whined and
paced between father and son until Dom yelled at the damn thing to leave him
alone.

“Take a shower,” he called out to Jace as he tossed in a
hunk of frozen lasagna. Getting no reply, he pulled a beer from the fridge,
trying to come up with a reason to stay home.

His phone buzzed in his pocket as he finished the first beer
and was reaching for another. He winced at the name on the screen, and touched
ignore
no less than four times. On the fifth ring he grabbed the thing and put it to
his ear.

“I hope there’s a crisis at work because that’s the only
reason you have to be calling me.”

“Dom, don’t be all pissy.” Chris’ voice curled up in his
head, squeezing his brain and making him want to puke. “Come over. I scored
some great stuff.”

“The stuff you brought last night was putrid.” He sipped,
his leg shaking like mad under the table until he forced it to be still. “I’m
going out. Leave me alone.” He hung up, daring her to call again. After about
thirty minutes of silence he took a deep, calming breath. He had to make Chris
understand that she couldn’t run his damn life. But his brain had started
spinning at the concept of locating some action tonight.

“Yo, kid,” he called over the sound of some kind of
destruction on the TV screen. “Food’ll be ready in a half hour. I’m gonna take
a shower.” Carrying his beer, he walked into the living room and leaned over
the couch to kiss Jace’s head. The boy ducked out of his way. Dom shrugged and
started whistling, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” as he headed for his
bathroom.

After the hot shower, he felt a million times more human.
He’d about decided to chuck the going-out plans and had managed to find clean
underwear when he heard a loud crash and prolonged barking. Figuring Jace had
pulled a glass down from the cabinet despite being told repeatedly not to do
that, he wandered out and saw his fifteen hundred dollar television lying
flat-screen-down on the floor.

“What the
fuck
?”

Jace stood, face stormy, arms crossed over his chest. The
dog was having some kind of a fit, running in circles, nudging Jace away from
the toppled TV. Dom reached for the kid, picked him up by the shirt collar and
glared at him. Just as he started to put him down, Jace hauled off and punched
him in the nose, bringing up way too many memories of the first day they’d met.

Without thinking he swatted the kid open-handed on his butt
twice, then put him down. When the boy started sobbing and crumpled into a
fetal position, Skywalker went ballistic, barking and growling at Dom as if he
were about to lunge and rip his face off. When Dom gave him a loud command to
stay, the dog retreated with a whimper and sat by Jace, nosing at him when he
wasn’t baring his teeth at Dominic.

“I hate you!” Jace screamed at the top of his lungs, making
Dom’s memory flash bright on the many times he’d stated that exact thing to his
own father. He looked down at his guilty appendage, guilt rising up in his
windpipe and choking him even as his palm stung as if in rebuke.

“Don’t touch me,” Jace screeched when Dom knelt down and
reached for him. The boy skittered away, crawling like a crab into the far
corner and huddling there, with Skywalker looming over him, every inch the
vicious guard dog.

Dom blew out a breath and sat down hard, blinking at his son
huddled and sniveling, the busted TV still lying on the floor between them.
“Jace.” His voice was hoarse. “I…I’m....”

Where was Doctor-motherfucking-Spock now, Dom thought as he
picked his son up, holding his arms at his sides to avoid more punches. He
shouldered his way into Jace’s room and dropped him onto the bed with a bounce.

“You have to think about what you did to the TV, Jace.” He
pointed a shaking finger, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot faker. “I’m
gonna get dinner on the table.”

“Fuck off,” the kid spat at him. Dom closed the door behind
him. Who was he to punish the odd F-word, after all?

Exhausted, he gave the busted television a wide berth and
sat, waiting for the timer to go off as he shot texts to sitters until he found
one available on short notice. After being ordered to go to hell when he told
Jace to come and eat, he chewed a few bites of food without tasting them, drank
another beer, put on dark jeans and a decent shirt that didn’t require ironing
and let the young woman in the door.

“He’s in his room. Dog’s there too. Feed him later, if you
don’t mind. Lasagna’s in the oven, bread’s there. I’m out of ice cream though
so here’s some money if y’all want to go get some.” He laid a twenty on the
counter.

“Wow, what happened to the TV,” the girl called out on her
way to Jace’s room.

“Long story. Ask my son. I’ll be…late.” He slammed the door
and pulled his phone out of his pocket when it buzzed. He slumped against the
door as he answered. “Hey Missus Horse Whisperer.”

“Hey yourself.” Diana spoke from hundreds of miles away,
making his heart race. “I talked to Kieran today.”

“Yeah, new baby. Woo hoo. I’m not sure kids are so fabulous
right now, I can tell you.”

“Dom, are you off your meds?”

He frowned and straightened up, anger lighting up the parts
of his brain not fuzzed over with the urge to run in a circle and scream like a
banshee. “None of your business, remember? You told me so yourself.”

“Honey, you can’t do that.”

“What about you,” he deflected. “Got that baby vet cooking
in the oven yet?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Dom let the silence grow between
them unsure what to say. “Third time’s the charm, I guess.”

“That’s great, Di. I know you wanted one real bad.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve made it to month seven this time, so….”

“Wow, it’s been a while.” He banged the back of his head against
the door until it hurt too much to continue.

“Almost three years. Take your dang pills, Dominic. Your son
needs you to. How is Jace anyway?”

“Trouble-and-a-half. But I got the kid I deserved, I’m
guessing my Mama will tell you.”

“Hmm, probably.”

“So, uh, I’m gonna go.” The ants were marching in force all
over his skin again, urging him forward. “Good luck, with the baby and all.”

“Call your mama, Dominic. She misses you so much.”

“Yeah, fine. You finished bossing me?” He jingled his keys,
eager to be done with the conversation, yet wanting to listen to her talk for
the rest of the night.

She blew out a breath. He could picture her, well, at least
her before being pregnant. He couldn’t begin to imagine that. “You’re
impossible.”

“I know. It’s why you love me. Gonna go. Take care. Bye.”

He ended the call before it got worse. After driving
randomly for a half hour to calm his jangling nerves, he found a parking spot
and hopped off the bike. The sensation of wanting—no, needing—to run a few
miles suffused his psyche. When he pushed into the bar, the familiar smells and
sounds did the opposite of soothing him. He sat, tapping nervously on the
wooden surface, checking out the talent. He spotted a few possibilities, and
his body shifted into a different mode as he noted an extraordinarily
attractive blonde and gave her his best fake shy smile. She blinked, blushed,
and whispered something to her very much-less attractive companion. He grinned
and ordered his first drink of the night.

His phone vibrated a couple of times once the blonde headed
his way after ditching her ugly friend. They were three bourbons in when she
lunged at him, bonking her nose into his. Aggravated and not wanting her to be
too drunk so she could maybe blow him, he rubbed her nose, then leaned over to
kiss it, waving down the barkeep for the check. Time to decamp, he thought.
Preferably to her place.