Starfire (Erotic Romance) (Peaches Monroe) (33 page)

BOOK: Starfire (Erotic Romance) (Peaches Monroe)
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Connor said, “Funny story. I’ll tell you in private.”

Dalton circled around the table to my side and gave my mother a big hug. “So good to see you, Mr. and Mrs. Monroe.” He shook my father’s hand and sheepishly muttered an apology for not doing the “traditional thing” and formally asking for permission to wed their daughter.

Dalton took a seat next to me, and the six of us looked back and forth at each other, the majority of us waiting for Jake to say something scandalous.

Jake, who was at the head of the table, opposite my father, took a long look at Connor, then at Dalton.

Jake was the one who’d invited Connor there, so he knew the connection, but wasn’t letting on.

Slowly, he said, “Look at you two. That’s some good casting. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you two were brothers. What do you say, there, Connor? Remind me again what your mother looks like. Is she a pretty lady who enjoyed some Big Dick before he got the ol’ snip-snip? What I’m asking is, do you look like your daddy who raised ya?”

My mother laughed uncomfortably, then everyone grew silent and leaned in.

Connor’s jaw moved up and down, but no words came out. I couldn’t handle the suspense, or everyone thinking what they were thinking.

They knew there was a surprise family member coming, and I could just FEEL them jumping to the wrong conclusions.

Unable to handle the misunderstanding any longer, I blurted out, “Connor and Dalton are cousins! Connor’s mother was sisters to Dalton’s mother!”

As soon as I said the words, I realized that revelation didn’t rule out the other possibility that had been raised. I turned to Jake, aghast. Were the guys cousins as well as half-brothers?

“Hmm,” Jake said, narrowing his eyes at Connor.

Connor burst out laughing. “Jake Blake, you may be a genuine motherfucker, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t fuck my mother.”

The waitress who had come to our table said, “I’ll come back in a minute,” and disappeared.

“We’re cousins?” Dalton asked, staring with wide eyes at Connor. “No shit. So that means Jamie is…”

“Aunt Jamie.”

Dalton nodded his head forward and held the back of his hand to his mouth, as if he might throw up. After a moment, everyone at the table’s eyes on him, Dalton looked up and said, “I was invited to audition, and it seemed odd at the time.”

Next to me, my mother murmured, “The family connection.”

Dalton shook his head, his cheeks colorless and face smooth. He’d shaved, and looked so young in that moment. Softly, he said, “I have a family.”

I reached over and squeezed his hand.

He turned to me, eyes wide with surprise, as if he’d forgotten I was there.

He continued, saying directly to me, “And now you’ll be my family.” He looked over to my mother and father. “And both of you, too. All of us.”

“I know, man,” said Connor. “It’s crazy. I love you, man.”

“I love you too,” Dalton said to his cousin.

We were quiet for a minute, everyone staring at Dalton.

My mother began to cry. “This is so beautiful,” she sniffed.

Jake waved for the waitress, then turned back to Connor with a grin. “I remember now, I did meet your mother a few times, back before things got real bad with your family. I’m fairly certain I didn’t bang her. Not my type, really.”

My father cleared his throat. “And what rare kind of woman, pray tell, is not your type?”

Jake seemed surprised by the question. “Same as any man. The type who don’t laugh at my jokes.” He looked at Connor pointedly. “And redheads, of course. I’ll never touch a redhead unless I’m being paid.”

“My mother’s a redhead,” Connor explained to the rest of us.

Everyone at the table nodded and visibly relaxed, as if confirmation of her being a redhead was as good as a DNA test, and, based on the rant about redheads Jake launched into next, it was.

The waitress returned, and we all ordered breakfast.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before the food came to our table and Jake’s attention turned to eating.

As we ate, my mother leaned over to me and said, “How did you sleep? Our room is over the hot tub room, and some drunken idiots were in there singing all night.”

I whispered back, “How awful. Considering how nice this resort is, I’m surprised they let in so much riff-raff.”

My mother giggled. “Like me and your father? I hope you’re not ashamed of us.”

“No, Mom.” I glanced over at Jake, who was regaling everyone with a story about the most notorious redhead in the adult film industry. “You’d have to try hard to outdo Dalton’s family.”

“The cousin seems nice,” she whispered. “Is he single? You should introduce him to Shayla.”

“I’m sure he has plenty of women throwing themselves at him.”

“Sure,” she snorted. “Skinny Hollywood types who don’t eat. These actor types, they need a real woman to anchor them.” She blinked and waved her hands. “No offense meant by the word
anchor
, but I’ve been reading up on some of these Hollywood marriages, and the ones that last are the ones you don’t see splashed all over the magazines. Like that lady who married the cameraman. They’re still married, right?”

“Julia?”

My mother gasped. “Look at you, calling her by her first name. I’d love to meet her someday. You know we share a birthday, right?”

Someone’s phone started ringing, and everyone reached for their pockets.

“Mine,” called my mother. “Stand down, everyone.”

Dalton’s end of the table went back to their conversation, and my mother checked her phone.

“That doesn’t sound good,” she said.

“Something wrong with Kyle?” A wave of panic washed over me. Here we all were, having a great time at a resort, and he was back home without us, feeling sick.

She frowned and showed the phone to my father. He put down his utensils, and the two of them whispered back and forth.

Dalton held his hand up to quiet his father momentarily, and asked us what was wrong.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” my mother said. “Our son, Kyle, has a fever,” she explained to Connor. “He’s seven.”

“I had no idea,” Dalton said, looking shaken.

“He’s probably fine,” my mother said, her voice betraying her concern with a tremble.

Dalton pushed back from the table. “I’ll call Vern to prepare the plane. You can fly out within the hour.”

She said, “But I don’t want to ruin the rest of the weekend, and everything you have planned.”

“Mom,” he said.

My heart clinched at him calling her that.

He said, “Go and be with your son. We’ve got plenty of time. So much time.”

They argued back and forth for a few minutes, until my father stood and started toward the doorway to the rooms.

I stood as well.

Dalton looked up at me with surprise. “Vern can make two trips. It’s a short flight.”

How could I explain to Dalton that I carried a mother’s guilt with me?

His father and cousin were staring at me with interest.

How could I say that I’d already let Kyle down once by not acknowledging him and getting prenatal care, and that I’d die if I ever let him down again? How could I explain I was as drawn to him because of the fever as my mother was?

I couldn’t explain without telling him the truth—the terrible thing I’d been able to tell the other men I’d been dating, but not Dalton.

Without words, my eyes somehow conveyed enough of an explanation.

He stood as well, and said, “I’ll help you get packed and on your way.”

“I can get my bags packed, I don’t need a butler,” I snapped.

“It’s up to you,” he said.

“Peaches, you can stay,” my mother said.

“You know I can’t,” I replied, and started walking away from the table. I tried not to think about the wounded expression I’d seen on Dalton’s face.

CHAPTER 32

Kyle’s fever had already broken by the time we landed on Dragonfly Lake Sunday afternoon.

The three of us picked him up from his friend’s house, apologized for probably infecting the other little boy with whatever he had. Kyle was feeling well enough to request ice cream, so we stopped at Moody’s Milk and News for frozen treats.

Kyle and I sat in the back seat of the car, eating our Fudgsicle and Creamsicle, respectively.

He wasn’t content to just eat, though, and kept poking me in the leg to get a reaction.

I said to him, “Kyle, I know Mom already said you could be the ring bearer at my wedding next weekend, but I think I might get someone else.”

He stared me down, his eyes squinting. “Who?”

“Oh, anyone would do. I just need a little girl, so her dress matches mine.”

“No. Carrying the ring is my job. Mom said.”

“Fine, I guess you’ll have to wear the pretty dress I bought.”

His eyes widened.

“The skirt is so pretty,” I said. “With ruffles, and flowers.”

“Mo-o-o-o-m!” he wailed.

She sighed. “Peaches, don’t antagonize your brother.”

“Gimme a bite of your Fudgsicle,” I said, even though I don’t care for the burnt taste of chocolate ice cream. “One bite, and I’ll let you wear the boy’s suit Mom got you.”

He gave me the sweetest, most innocent expression, and held the drippy Fudgsicle toward me. “Okay.”

“You’re going to smack me in the nose when I try to take a bite, aren’t you?”

“No. I love you.”

“Kyle, why do you love me?”

“Because I do.”

“I love you, too, but I don’t want your Fudgsicle, because your germs are on it, and I don’t want to get sick before the wedding.”

“Okay.” He stuck it back in his mouth.

After he’d eaten it right down to the stick, he asked me, “Are you really getting married? Because some people said that you can’t, because you’re fat.”

My mother turned around in her seat, her face livid before she toned her reaction down in front of Kyle. Through clenched teeth, she asked him, “Sweetie, are the kids that you play with talking about Peaches?”

He turned to the window. “Sometimes.”

I stared at my mother, feeling sick to my stomach. Through all of the craziness of the summer, I barely considered how my actions would affect him. If I married Dalton, the gossip would only get worse, especially when Kyle returned to school in September.

My mother turned to my father and said, “Hey, we’re married, aren’t we?”

“Yes, I believe we are,” he said calmly, turning on the turn signal to get onto the road home.

“And were there any problems due to me being fat?”

He smiled. “Are you fat? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Most days I don’t notice, either,” she said. “Except for sometimes, when I meet really, really, really stupid people. Mostly I just feel sorry for them for being so stupid.”

Kyle laughed. “The girl who said it. She is stupid.”

I remembered what my mother had said two weeks earlier, about Kyle acting out recently. If kids were teasing him about his sister, that would certainly explain him being upset. I made a mental note to spend more one-on-one time with him, so I could talk to him about any problems he was having.

Kyle started telling us more about this girl who was mean. She was eight years old, and her mother already had her on a diet.

My mother gave me a knowing look. “I believe I know exactly who this girl’s mother is, and I look forward to having a little chat with her.”

My father said, “Maybe I should be there with you when that happens. Just in case.”

“As backup for the beatdown,” I said, nodding. “Go, Dad.”

“Something like that,” he said.

My mother rolled her eyes and turned back around in her seat.

In a low voice, I said to Kyle, “Hey, if you ever need me to take care of someone, just say the word.”

He gave me one those cute I’m-so-confused-by-you faces.

“I’ve got your back,” I said, nodding gravely.

“You’re weird.”

“You eat boogers.”

“Your whole head is made of boogers. And your butt.”

We traded insults until we got to the house.

Mom thawed out a meatloaf from the freezer, and we sat together and enjoyed our family dinner. I wondered how Dalton and his father and cousin were doing back at the resort, but mostly I relaxed and savored the comfort of being with my people.

CHAPTER 33

Monday morning, I arrived late to Peachtree Books, now open at the new location. I was shocked to discover the store was already open.

A brunette woman, about fifty, swept the front sidewalk clear of dirt and debris.

“Hi, boss! I’m Laura,” she said. “I would have waited for you, but I still had my key, so I hope you don’t mind. I called Adrian and got the alarm code. He said to say hello if you showed up.” She swept a little more, stirring the dust mostly into the air. “Adrian said to go get you a mocha if you didn’t already have one in your hand, so I’ll just go do that.”

“Interesting.”

She handed me the broom, then disappeared up the street.

I walked into the store, surprised to find three—no, four—customers browsing the books. They seemed to be shopping independently, which meant either our new location was going to be much better for business, or I was about to get flash-mobbed.

I darted back out the door and looked around for people acting suspiciously. Was there a flash mob waiting in the wings? The mailman waved, but that was it. Everything seemed normal enough.

I went back in and stood in the middle of the new store for a minute, feeling awkward. Everything looked perfect and organized, the way it had been on Friday.

Except for a few balloons tied to the tops of bookshelves, nobody would ever guess the store had only been open since Saturday.

Good job, Adrian.

The customers were browsing fine on their own, so I made my way to my spot behind the counter and dumped out the pens from the tin, to give them a good sorting.

Ten minutes later, Laura returned with two takeout cups, including a mocha for me. And a gingersnap cookie.

“Laura, I love you already,” I said.

Yes, things were going well.

Adrian thought he’d pull one over on me by hiring some woman without my permission, but I wasn’t going to freak out.

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