The Hustle (Irreparable #4) (33 page)

“No need to thank me, Liv. You’re going to be my sister soon and I care about you. I don’t know Harrison, but you obviously cared for him and I’m sure it’s hard to let go.”

“It is, but I’ll be okay. I’m really happy for you and Tug.”

“Tug,” I giggle. “Not sure I’ll ever be able to call him that.”

“Yeah, Aidan fits him more now that he’s grown up, and truthfully I keep calling him Tug for the sole purpose of annoying him.”

I laugh because she laughs. “That’s what sisters are for, right?”

“Yeah, but he’s definitely grown up. You’ve changed him, you know. In a good way.”

“I think I just helped him figure out who he is.”

“Well, thank you because I was ready to choke the little shit.”

It feels good to hear her laugh and as we approach my mom and Tori, I realize how much I love Aidan’s family. As an only child, I never understood the bond of sisterhood. Thanks to Tori and Liv, and how easily they’ve accepted me, I not only understand the bond, I feel it. When they hurt, I hurt. I hope Liv finds someone who will treat her right. She deserves to be happy.

A
lthough Peyton didn’t think her father and I had anything in common, I discovered on day three of their visit that he’s an avid golfer. We spend the morning on the course, with Brady and Jesse completing our foursome.

Mr. Miles ignores their lack of etiquette for the most part until Jesse howls in his backswing. There was some mumbling about my degenerate friends, but by the time we reach the nineteenth hole, all is forgotten. Mr. Miles and I discover that in addition to Peyton and golf, we also share an affinity for whiskey and cribbage.

Brady and Jesse stay for one drink before they have to leave for the studio. Mr. Miles lands the lowest cut and deals the cards. I pick up my six cards, keep the four I like and toss the other two face down on the table, all while his eyes examine me. This is the moment we’re alone that I’m sure he’s been waiting for since he arrived in San Diego.

“Is there something you want to say to me, sir?”

He goes about arranging his cards without commenting, until he lays the two he’s chosen to discard on the table. “Okay, son . . . I fight fires for a living. There have been many times I worried if I’d make it home to my wife and daughter, but it wasn’t my fear I hated. It was my wife’s. Peyton’s been honest with us about how Javier’s mother died . . . I never wanted Peyton to end up with a man that put himself in danger.”

I down a quick shot of whiskey to soothe my awkward frustration. I’ve changed. It takes everything in me not to resort to sarcasm and shoot back some comment about how I’m a nerdy, white-collar type so he needn’t worry. But the concern layering his features is real. I know because I’ve felt it. “I hear what you’re saying and all I can offer is the truth. That I no longer associate with the cartels, and I have no plans of doing business with them in the future.”

“And Alejandro Torrente?” The accusation in his voice is enough to force me to do another shot before I say something foolish. I want Peyton’s father to like me, not for me, but because I know it’s important to her. He’s clearly done a lot of research to prepare for this trip, but he doesn’t understand. Not that most people could.

“He’s Javier’s grandfather,” I say calmly.

His eyebrows rise. “He was the leader of a notoriously ruthless cartel.”

I know he’s Peyton’s father, but this inquisition into my private past expands what’s acceptable from one’s future father-in-law. Although, if it was my little girl, I’d want answers. “Look, Mr. Miles, I mean no disrespect, but Mr. Torrente walked away from the cartels. He’s Javier’s grandfather and I owe him a great deal. He’ll always have a place in my life and he’s the reason I can live without looking over my shoulder. As for your daughter, she’s a remarkable woman and I love her. And I wouldn’t hesitate to lay down my life to protect her. I would do anything to make her happy, including standing up to her father.”

There’s a hint of a smile in his eyes. “You can call me Phil,” he says, hoisting a shot of whiskey in the air. It seems I’ve passed his test, and in a few short days, I can finally call Peyton my wife. “Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I have one more thing to say.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I wasn’t thrilled when I heard you were a single dad.” My jaw ticks again. Javier isn’t a negotiable subject. “But then I realized something, son. Taking in a kid that isn’t yours and raising him like your own, makes you the kind of man worthy of my little girl.”

“Thank you.” My voice cracks and there’s nothing more I can say to express my gratitude.

After another two hours of drinking and an ass whoopin’ in cribbage, I call a cab to take us home.

We stumble into the lobby, still laughing about whatever it was we were discussing in the cab. I sway, reaching for the button to my floor, but it keeps multiplying. With one eye closed, I think I manage to press it.

Once I finally get the front door open, we practically fall into the loft, and I expect a good scolding from Peyton about getting drunk with her father. However, given the laughter around me, and Barbara staggering toward her husband, I’d say the women drank their lunch and aren’t in any better shape than we are.

Bullet dodged, and I’d even go as far as to say Phil likes me.

I
can’t stop myself from giggling as I cuddle up next to Aidan, gliding a finger up and down his sweaty chest. “Do you think they heard us?”

“I honestly don’t care,” he answers out of breath. I was only able to hold Aidan off for four days since my parents arrived, and I finally caved when he woke me in the middle of the night. He rolls over and settles on top of me again. Our sweat mixes when he rests his forehead on mine. The glint in his eyes tells me one time isn’t enough to make up for four days. “And I don’t care if they hear us again.”

When I squirm, pushing against his chest, he laughs as his hand glides up my inner thigh. He doesn’t give me another second to protest as his hips push forward and he enters me with a loud groan.

“Shh . . .” I giggle, stretching my hands above my head.

He braces himself above me. My gaze works over the corded muscle of his abs, moving lower. I exhale a moan, watching his cock move slowly in and out of me. The intensity becomes too much. My back arches as I cry out, but Aidan’s grip on the side of my hips pushes me back to the mattress.

Our combined sounds of satisfaction fill the air as he gains speed. The slow and familiar buildup starts low in my belly. I shift my hips so he hits the spot I know will send me out of control. Just as I reach the peak, light fills the room and a shadow comes into view.

“Daddy.”

I laugh, but only because the door is cracked open so Javier shouldn’t be too traumatized. Aidan groans as he rolls off of me. The heat we created feels like an inferno when he covers us with the comforter.

“Yeah, kid?” Aidan says to the door.

“Can I come in?” Javier asks, inching the door open.

“Of course, come here,” I say, patting the bed in between me and Aidan. Javier climbs up on the bed. I’m relieved to see his groggy expression doesn’t show fear. He’s only had the one nightmare, but I know there will be more. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“No, I heard weird noises. I think Mrs. Shaw has cats.”

I lock eyes with Aidan and notice he’s exerting as much effort as I am to stay composed. We both know Aidan’s neighbor doesn’t have cats. “Well . . . You can lie in here with us if you’d like.”

In minutes, he’s asleep, nestled into my side where I continue to comb my fingers through his soft brown hair.

“Reowwww . . . Reowwwww . . .” Trying not to laugh, I move my hand from Javier’s hair to Aidan’s mouth to cover up his humorous cat noises. He pushes it away and that devilish grin is so contagious all I can do is shake my head. I narrow my eyes when he does it again. “Reow.” This time the noise sounds more like a whimper as he looks up at me with his bottom lip out and droopy eyes.

I smother a laugh as he slides out of bed naked and holds his hand out. I stare at it like he’s crazy, which he is if he thinks I’m parading around the loft naked with my parents in the house. “I’m not going out there.”

“Yes . . . you are.” His sexual confidence is limitless and the cocky grin on his face doesn’t exactly help in denying him. It’s a sexy grin that makes women weak in the knees and he works it to his advantage every time. It’s always worked on me, and he knows it will again. “Just across the hall.”

It takes two seconds for me to cave. I hold his hand, sneaking across the hall like some silly teenager who snuck a boy into her house. But in another five seconds, I don’t even care as Aidan holds me against the wall and makes me forget my name, or where I am or who’s in the next room.