Outsider (44 page)

“Knowing
that would have made it easy for you to track him down and mail him a copy,”
Reagan said, but she already felt she had the wrong culprit. Toni would look
guilty if she’d done something wrong. The woman didn’t know how to hide her
emotions.

“I
wouldn’t do that,” Toni said. “It had to be Susan.”

“Tamara,”
Logan corrected.

Toni
scowled at him. “Well, whatever she calls herself, she lives in Seattle. Or she
did. I’m not sure where she is now.”

“I
bet Steve could track her down,” Logan said. “Through Bianca.”

“Probably
easier to go directly through Sam,” Max said.

“Sam?”
Logan scrunched his brow. “How is Bianca connected to Sam?”

“I
have no fucking clue,” Max said. “But I intend to find out.”

Trey
took a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks. For all his insistence that Ethan
and Reagan be open about their relationship, he’d never actually met the parent
of a lover before. What if Mrs. Mendez hated him? Would that plant another seed
of doubt in Ethan’s subconscious, because the guy already had a full garden of
doubt growing there. He didn’t need another weed to sprout.

Reagan
squeezed his hand. “Rosa is a total sweetheart,” she said. “She’ll love you.”

“She
loves
you
,” Trey said. “I’m probably not the kind of partner she wanted
for her son.”

“I
think you’re wrong,” Reagan said. “She wants Ethan to be happy, and you make
him happy.”

“
We
make him happy.” He squeezed her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing her
knuckle just above the rock he’d put on her finger only days before.

Reagan
smiled and leaned against his arm. “We.”

Ethan
was easy enough to spot as he stepped off the escalator. Not only was he
several inches taller than most of the people milling about baggage claim, he
was also the most gorgeous man in the vicinity—all dark and feral. A young
woman tripped over her own rolling suitcase as she gawked at him.

The
short woman beside him had to be his mother. There was definitely a resemblance
through the eyes and nose, but it was the way she corralled her hulk of a son
like a toddler in an unfamiliar place that made Trey chuckle under his breath.

Reagan
stood on tiptoe and waved until she caught Ethan’s attention. Trey tongued the
hoop in his lip, wondering if he should have removed some of his jewelry before
they’d arrived. He had left his tongue piercing out. At least he wouldn’t sound
like he had a speech impediment, even if he did look like every mother’s
nightmare.

“Your
hand is all sweaty,” Reagan said, tugging her hand free of his and wiping it on
her jeans.

“Sorry.”

“Reagan!”
Rosa shouted her welcome and wrapped Reagan in a tight hug. After a long
squeeze, she held Reagan at arm’s length and shook her head. “Why do you never visit
me? I must feed you. You’re all flesh and bones.”

“Skin
and bones,” Ethan corrected.

“I’ll
visit soon,” Reagan promised. “After the tour is over.”

“This
is Trey,” Ethan said, adding under his breath, “Please remember what I warned
you about on the plane.”

What
he’d warned her about? What was that supposed to mean?

Rosa
beamed a friendly smile at him, her dark eyes scanning his face and settling
briefly on the piercings in his brow and lip, and on the multiple piercings in each
of his ears. She took a step toward him, both arms raised as if to hug him, but
then she glanced at Ethan, dropped one arm and merely shook Trey’s hand. “Nice
to meet you. Congratulations on your engagement to my Reagan.” She cringed as
she said it, as if someone were twisting a knife in her side.

“The
pleasure is mine,” Trey said, trying to win her over with his best smile, but
she turned away.

“Where
is luggage?” She turned toward the nearest carousel.

Trey
attempted to catch Ethan’s eye. He knew he couldn’t throw himself into his arms
and kiss him until he was giddy and breathless, but he would at least like to
lose himself in Ethan’s gaze and know that he was still loved. But apparently
there wasn’t time for either him or Reagan. Ethan kept them both at an
impersonal distance as luggage was collected and stowed in the trunk of a taxi.
Rosa sat in the front seat with the driver, asking him questions about the
sites they saw as they drove into Atlanta. In the back seat, Reagan sat between
Trey and Ethan, holding Trey’s hand openly on her lap and taking Ethan’s more
discreetly between her leg and his.

“We’ve
missed you,” she whispered to Ethan while their driver was occupied with his
very inquisitive copilot. That part of Atlanta wasn’t exactly known for
world-renowned sites, but Mrs. Mendez seemed to think she was touring Rome.

“It’s
all I can do to keep myself from dragging you both to the floor for a proper
reunion,” Ethan said, the low timber of his voice playing havoc with Trey’s
senses. And though his body was very much ready to cooperate with that plan,
his heart and his head were not so amenable.

“Are
you sure about that?” Trey said, releasing Reagan’s hand and leaning against
the taxi door so that their legs weren’t touching.

“I’m
sure.”

“We
haven’t seen you in days,” Trey said, “and I didn’t get so much as a high five
in the airport.”

“If
I touch you, I won’t be able to hide how I feel,” Ethan said.

“I
don’t want you to fucking hide it,” Trey grumbled.

“You’re
the one who publicly proposed to Reagan. Even if I’m ready to let the world
know how I feel about you, I can’t now, can I? You’re engaged.”

“I
had to give the press something big to get them to agree not to post those
pictures of Reagan naked in the hotel lobby,” Trey snapped.

“That’s
why you proposed?” Reagan asked.

“No,”
Trey said. “That’s why I made sure every reporter in New York was in
attendance.”

“Oh,
look,” Rosa said loudly in the front seat. “That’s an interesting building.”

“It’s
a McDonald’s, Mamá,” Ethan said.

“We
have no McDonald’s like that in my neighborhood.”

Ethan’s
expression softened, and he reached over the seat to squeeze his mother’s shoulder.
“How far to the hotel?” he asked the driver.

“Just
a few more minutes,” the man said, taking his eyes off the road long enough to
glance in the rearview mirror at his back-seat passengers.

“Did
you get a room for Mamá?” Ethan asked.

Reagan
giggled. “She has to share with Butch.”

“Who
is Butch?” Rosa asked.

“My
boss,” Ethan said.

“I
thought Reagan was boss.”

Ethan
rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, Reagan is my employer. Butch is my boss. And
there is no way I’d ever let you share a room with him.”

Trey
was trying very hard to stay mad at Ethan for his lack of greeting in the
airport, but he’d missed him so much that he allowed himself to grin at the
fierce protectiveness Ethan showed for those he loved.

Rosa
turned and smiled at Reagan, a spark of mischief in her dark eyes. “This Butch”—which
sounded more like
Booch
when she said it—“is he handsome?”

“Uh,
he’s okay. If you like walruses.” Reagan choked on a laugh.

“I
like man with meat on bones.”

“I
didn’t mean . . .” Reagan glanced at Ethan, her brows drawn
together, before turning her attention back to Rosa. “Butch is physically fit. Very
muscular. Not fat. He just has a rather prominent mustache.”

Rosa
smiled and turned to face the windshield, her hands clasped together demurely
in her lap. “I like man with texture around lips. Very nice for kissing.”

Trey’s
eyes widened and then focused on Ethan. He snorted on a laugh at Ethan’s
shell-shocked expression.

“Mamá,
I thought you were waiting for Pap
á
to come to his senses,” Ethan said.

She
shrugged. “Yes, well, I won’t wait forever. Maybe I give that cheater his extra
dessert.”

“His
just
deserts.” Ethan corrected her as if it were an automatic reflex.

“I’m
sure Butch would love to spend time with you,” Trey said, mostly because he
couldn’t resist teasing Ethan. “I don’t think he’s dated much since his
divorce.”

“Butch
is divorced?” Reagan asked, and Trey nodded, wondering how she could be around
the man every day and not know that he was divorced.

“He’s
married to his job,” Ethan grumbled.

“I
like a man who has a job,” Rosa said quietly.

Ethan
groaned and covered his face with both hands. Trey’s earlier anger was
completely gone now. Not much got under Ethan’s skin, but apparently the
thought of his mother dating did.

When
they reached the hotel, Ethan and Trey went after the luggage while Reagan
escorted Rosa into the lobby, their arms locked at the elbow and their heads
close together as they whispered about some conspiracy.

“So,”
Trey said to Ethan. “How do I win her over? She doesn’t seem to like me much.”

“She’s
not supposed to like you publicly,” Ethan said. “You are marrying the woman she
thought would be her beloved daughter-in-law.”

Ethan
slung a bag over one shoulder and pulled out the handle of a blue-and-white-polka-dot
rolling suitcase.

“I
should have asked you if you were okay with it before—”

Ethan
shook his head, his eyes resting on someone standing behind Trey. “Not the time
or the place,” he said, walking away.

Trey
sighed, lifted two heavy duffle bags—had Ethan brought some weights?—and followed
Ethan, his gaze riveted to the wide cut of Ethan’s shoulders that tapered into
a set of narrow hips and a nicely rounded ass. Had Trey actually made their
situation worse by trying to make it better? Maybe after the wedding, public
interest would wane, but then if Reagan was caught “cheating” with Ethan after
she was married, it would be considered adultery, not just labeled promiscuous
behavior. Why did this have to be so damned complicated? Was it anyone’s
business who Reagan took to her bed? Trey knew it wasn’t anyone’s goddamned
business who he took to his. He didn’t care who knew he was in love with and
had sex with a woman
and
a man. But Reagan cared. She was letting the
world hold her to a double standard, and so was Ethan for that matter. Now Trey
was afraid that he was contributing to their hesitance rather than abating it.

On
the elevator, Reagan used her key card to access the secure level of the hotel.

“Where’s
all the security?” Ethan asked. “Have they been slacking off in my absence?”

“The
guys had an event downtown that I talked myself out of,” Reagan said. “Are you
in a hurry to introduce your mama to Butch?” Reagan raised her eyebrows with
the question.

“No.”

Rosa
laughed. “I can handle myself, mijo.”

“Meehyo?”
Trey said aloud, before realizing she was speaking Spanish. He’d taken a few
semesters in high school, but was far from fluent.

“Son,”
Ethan translated.

“You
also mijo,” Rosa said with a smile as she patted Trey’s shoulder. “My son.”

Trey
bit his lip, which was inexplicably trembling.

Ethan
squeezed Rosa’s shoulder. “Just a few more minutes,” he said to her.

She
sighed and nodded.

A
few more minutes until what? Reagan handed Rosa a set of key cards. “We’re
staying right across the hall.”

Good
plan, Trey thought. It would be less likely for Rosa to hear squeaking
mattresses, heads pounding against headboards, and copious amounts of moaning
coming from her son’s room if she stayed across the hall rather than next door.
Though if she happened to share a wall with Steve, no telling what she’d hear.

Rosa
opened her door with her key card and they all followed her inside. Ethan set
her luggage near a closet and took his bags from Trey. Jeez, he’d assumed the
duffle bags belonged to Ethan. How long was Rosa planning on staying, a year?

“Okay
now?” Rosa asked, lifting her eyebrows at Ethan.

“Okay
now,” he said.

Trey
grunted as he was hugged with enough force to drive all the wind from his
lungs. It took a moment for him to return Rosa’s enthusiastic embrace as the
tighter she hugged him, the more his heart swelled in his chest. Perhaps her
acceptance meant more to him than he’d realized. All the important people in
Trey’s life accepted who he was. And that was vital to his well-being. He could
only imagine what it felt like to have a parent or a sibling not love you
unconditionally. He was glad—for Ethan’s sake—that he had such a mother. He
didn’t think Reagan was so lucky with her father’s affection, but they wouldn’t
know if they didn’t give the man a chance to prove himself.