It’s Always Us (Abandoned Brothers #3)

Chapter 20

LEX

I wake up, my cheek pressed against the soft white sheets filled with the masculine smell I’ve craved since our one night in Vegas. His warm, muscular body is pressed against mine, and his hand is splayed across my stomach. I smile despite all the remaining unanswered questions that drift around us.

I lay still, needing to memorize the feel of every single inch of his body, but before I can, his fingers move, and his hand is gone. He groans as he stretches. Without the distraction of his warmth, the burning ache of hunger roars through me.

I roll on my back to peek at him, and I’m met with that grin. The one that makes my insides quiver and want to pull the sheet over my head and hide.

“What?” I ask, his face way too handsome and smug.

“Now, I know what it’s actually like to sleep with you.” I shove him gently, and he grabs my wrist, holding it to his chest. “I like it. Not that I don’t like not sleeping with you.”

I hide my face in the pillow, and he laughs.

“It’s all going to be ok,” he whispers, kissing my temple.

When he says it, it seems possible.

My stomach rumbles, and my hunger drowns everything else. “Mark,” I whisper. “I need food.”

He pulls away. “Shit. When was the last time you ate?” He sits up as if it’s an emergency, holding his arm close.

“I don’t know, but this baby might be eating my insides. ”

He climbs out of bed, and I can’t stop my eyes from taking in the full view. Mark stands only in his boxer briefs, tugging on gym shorts one-handed, his other arm slung across his body. His lean muscles bend and contract with his movement.

A mischievous smirk takes over his mouth when he catches me, and I promise he flexes his abs, that dark writing on his ribs causing my heart to squeeze tight.

One black eyebrow hitches upward. “Like what you see?”

I throw a pillow at him and miss. “Not even a little, you punk.”

He steps closer, leaning down so close I can see every hue of brown that makes up his dark eyes. His lips hover above mine, and I. Can’t. Move. His eyes trace over my face, and it would be so easy to close the inch between us. The weight of years of longing rests on me, but the magnitude of everything we stand to lose holds me back.

His eyes flick to my lips and the intense heat I see causes a similar wave to roll up my spine.

“Liar.” That cocky grin returns, and he grabs my hand, pulling me up with him. “Come on. I’m making you breakfast so we can feed our baby.”

I tug him to a stop. “ You’re making me breakfast?”

He turns to face me, slipping his arm around me and pulling me against him. My hands slide around his back, and his skin is warm and smooth. Damn him and his playfulness . “Baby, one of the things that’s changed in the time we’ve been apart is I’ve become an excellent cook.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smiles. “It’s just one of the many talents I’ve discovered that I’m looking forward to sharing with you, but given my current one-armed state, I’ll let you help.”

I roll my eyes. “Good to see your confidence has remained intact.”

He laughs and takes my hand, linking our fingers as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear on our short journey to the kitchen, but I like it . . . a little too much.

In the kitchen, Mark pulls out a toaster and then opens and closes cupboards, pulling out pans and plates while I watch.

He starts singing, and I smile, taking him in. This Mark is exactly the same, but can clearly work a kitchen, even with an arm tied down. He catches me watching and winks. My empty stomach leaps and twirls.

This guy. Ugh. Somebody help me .

We work side-by-side, him stirring the eggs and me doing all the non-cooking duties. In minutes, I have a plate with toast and eggs and a glass of orange juice.

I take a bite, and a moan escapes my lips.

“That good, huh?” He smiles, slipping onto a stool beside me at the enormous marble-topped island separating the kitchen from the living room.

I bump his good shoulder with mine. “So good, or I’m that hungry.”

He rolls his eyes, and we eat in silence while I shovel every last bite into my mouth. As I slow my binge, I take a moment to check out his space, including a sliding glass wall leading to a pool, hot tub, and small yard. The sun and blue sky filter in as the leaves on the palm tree sway gently in the breeze. All of it reminds me of how far I am from home.

Mark finally breaks the silence, and his tone is less playful than it was minutes ago.

“How long can you stay?” His question is filled with hesitancy, and we’re back to reality.

“My flight is this afternoon.” I knew this would be hard, but the words are like glass in my throat.

“Cancel it.”

I meet his serious gaze. “Mark, I can’t. I have to get back to work while I can, and . . . I have to tell Grandpa and my mom about you and the baby. My first doctor’s appointment is next week.”

Thoughts of Grandpa and Slade’s conversation cause my full stomach to squeeze tight, and I set my fork down.

He turns, his knees bumping into me, straddling my stool. “What do you mean, while you can?”

I run my finger down the glass, contemplating whether I want to get into this with him. If I want trust in whatever kind of relationship we have, then I have to be open and honest.

“At some point, I won’t be able to lift and maneuver around the cars. Grandpa may not let me do anything but change fluids and hand back keys once he finds out. Plus . . . ” I swallow, resting back in my seat, making room for the hurt and disappointment to expand. “He’s selling the shop to Slade.” Saying it out loud feels like getting the wind knocked out of me, and my throat constricts .

“What?!” We’ve been apart a long time, but Mark knows how important that place is to me. “Your grandpa is selling the shop? Lex . . . What the hell?”

I twist my glass, trying to keep the deep-searing burn of it locked up tight. “Yeah, well, at least I know Slade will keep me on, and after the baby is born, I’ll have a job.”

He’s quiet, and I know he’s thinking.

“Lex, I know you wanted to run that shop and how much you love working on cars. I also know you are hell-bent on being self-sufficient, but I make millions of dollars. Job or no job, you and our baby will never have to worry.”

I turn toward him, slipping my legs between his. “That’s just it. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be the woman who got knocked up and expects you to support me. My mom—”

He cuts me off, his tone tense, and I know he remembers. “Nothing about this is the same, and it won’t ever be.”

I force my eyes to his. “This is important to me. I have to be able to support or at least contribute enough.”

He rests his hand on my bare thigh, his thumb tracking back and forth. “I know. Can you stay for a few days? I’ll get through my first therapy appointments, check in with my agent, and then I’ll go back with you. Maybe only for a day or two, but I want to be there when you tell your grandpa.”

“Really? You want to go back with me?”

A sweet smile pulls at his lips. “Yes. Lex, I meant what I said last night. I’m going to give this everything I’ve got. You and our baby are all that matters, and I’m not missing your doctor’s appointment.”

I don’t even try to prevent the smile that creeps across my face. “Ok. I’ll have to let Grandpa know I won’t be in.”

“Ok, you’ll stay, and I can go back with you?”

I nod, and he sighs in relief, running his hand through his hair.

I gather our plates, taking them to the sink to rinse them as he grabs the pan. He places it in the sink, but instead of moving away, he slips his arm around me, his hand resting on our growing baby.

He closes around me, his lips pressing against my neck. “Thank you for staying.”

The sincerity in his voice almost brings tears to my eyes .

“Thank you for wanting to go back with me.”

“I don’t want to be anywhere you’re not. I mean it. I want to know you again like I used to. I want to be together.”

I twist in his arms, turning to face him. “Me, too.”

He rests his chin on the top of my head, his hand spreading over my lower back. “Can you please never wear anything else?”

I laugh, standing pressed against him as his hand slides to my butt, dressed in only his shirt. If only he knew of all the nights I slept in one similar, holding on to the only piece of him I had left.

His lips find my forehead, and he leaves them there, holding me tighter. “I’m terrified I’m going to screw this up.” His admission is so achingly soft the words bleed through me.

Careful of his arm, I slide my arms up his back and rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I feel like we’ve done everything backward. I think we need to take things slow and promise that no matter what, this baby comes first.”

“I promise, but it’s not just the baby. You come first, too.”

I hold him tighter. “I don’t want to get in the way of everything you’ve worked for.”

Mark pulls back, causing me to look up at him. His dark eyes filled with intense longing. My no-touching rule has gone out the window, but I will myself to stay strong.

“I’ve waited for this for so long, and now you’re carrying my baby. Our baby. There isn’t anything more important than that.” His thumb finds the side of my small stomach and runs up and down. “We can take this as slow as you want. I just want us to do it together.”

I push up on my toes, holding on to his waist. That’s the only thing I want, but I’m scared reality has different plans.

Mark’s hand slides up to my neck, and he presses kisses down the side of my face to my jaw.

Damn him and his soft lips and hard muscles. Every centimeter of my body wants to go with it, but my brain knows better. We may be married, but we have a long way to go in our renewed relationship.

My back presses into the counter and I allow myself a few more seconds to savor the feel of his mouth moving over my skin. Some kind of manly groan comes from his throat, and his hand slips under the hem of my shirt as he trails kisses back up my neck, biting and teasing .

His lips whisper against my skin. “You smell exactly the same. I’ve missed it every day.”

I suck in oxygen and try to come to my senses as his fingers grip my hip. “This doesn’t feel like slow.” It comes out way breathier than I want it to.

He halts his pursuit, a grin pressing against my neck. “I might’ve lied. This could be a problem. I like you way too much, and I’ve missed you even more.” His warm hand, glides over my body and spreads across my spine. I cling to him as he hugs me, keeping him close, his head tucked into my neck. “My love language is physical touch, and your skin is my weakness. If you’re within reach, baby, I can’t be expected to keep my hands to myself.”

Oh, goodnight. I melt into him further, unsure if I even care anymore about what the consequences might be.

He pulls away, leaving me thirsting for more. I hate him and his smooth ways. I inhale, trying to slow my racing heart.

“I have PT today, but I’ve been waiting for a real date for pretty much forever. Go to dinner with me tonight.”

What. The. Hell? I’ve always known Mark is a tease, but I might actually kill him. I frown, trying desperately not to let him see the effect he has on me, but I suck at it, and it’s likely more of a glare. “If someone sees, won’t that be a problem?”

He smirks, and I want to kiss it right off his face. “Nope. I’m done with that shit. Can I take a pic of you right now in my shirt and blast it everywhere to let the world know you’re my wife and we’re having a baby? I want everyone to know exactly what we’ve been up to.” My cheeks fill with fire, which only makes his lips turn up further. His hand slides against my face, still grinning. “Baby, there’s nothing to be shy about.”

I’m not sure he’s right about that.

I swallow, shoving him just a little, and he laughs. I push my lips to the side, thinking about what that would mean. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that. We at least need to tell Grandpa and my mom first.”

His face softens and turns more serious. “Yeah. I need to talk to Shane and Sean. We’ll tell them all first, but it will change things for you.” He watches me. “People are going to want to know who you are. I need to be sure you’re safe. ”

I lean into him again and rest my head on his good shoulder. I’m still trying to imagine what it will be like for the whole world to know I’m Mark Sandberg’s wife. I can’t. I never thought it would happen, and I’m still getting used to the idea.

“So, will you go to dinner with me? We can start there. Just dinner.”

The way he says ‘just dinner’ as if it’s a formal agreement has me biting my lip. I don’t buy his attempt at keeping things cool for one second, and by the sly smirk on his face, he doesn’t either.

“I know you’re a big hot shot now, but do we have to go somewhere fancy?”

He laughs and pulls my head up, cradling my face with his hand. “How about somewhere quiet with a basketball game and whatever food sounds good to you?”

I smile. “Ok.”

______

SLADE: Where r u?

SLADE: We need to talk.

SLADE: U r pissing me off.